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A 


WITH  CAR  AND  CAMERA 


Portrait  of  a  young  man 

By  a  pupil  of  Alvise  Vivarini— In  the  collection  of  the  author 


XTbc  fan 


THROUGH  ITALY 

WITH  CAR  AND  CAMERA 


BY 

DAN  FELLOWS  PLATT 


WITH  TWO  HUNDRED  ILLUSTRATIONS 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

Uhc  Ikntcfeerbocfeer  press 
1908 


COPVRIGHT,  1907 

BY 

DAN  FELLOWS  PLATT 


Ube  ftnfcfterbocfeer  preee,  Hew  jgoch 


PREFACE. 


f  I  ^HE  author  has  not  been  able  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  make  a  book  of  these  notes,  taken  on 
a  trip  whose  memories,  with  their  strong  appeal 
to  one's  varied  aesthetic  sensibilities,  form  a  most  pleas- 
urable mental  store. 

Early  September  would  have  been  a  better  time  for 
starting  than  was  October.  The  month's  delay  brought 
us  colder  nights  in  the  mountain  towns  of  central  Italy 
than  were  desirable.  December,  too,  found  crushed 
stone  on  many  of  the  roads,  the  avoidance  of  which 
would  make  a  saving  in  tire  expense. 

Our  trip  was  unique.  One  after  the  other,  small  and 
large,  the  centres  of  Italy's  past  artistic  activity  were 
visited.  Most  of  them  we  had  previously  visited,  a 
fact  which  permitted  us  sufficient  speed  to  keep  un- 
broken the  continuity  of  our  general  art  survey.  Art 
gave  us  many  happy  hours — hours  well  defined  in 
memory.  Nature  formed  the  setting  and  more  than 
doubled  the  beauty  of  the  whole.  Italy  sums  up  all  of 
Nature's  moods:  sea,  sky  and  plain,  lake,  river,  and 
mountain — she  has  them  all  in  unsurpassed  variety. 
From  the  snow-capped  peaks  of  the  Cisalpine  country 
to  the  orange-groves*  of  the  south,  she  charms  her 
lovers  with  her  changing  beauty  of  form  and  colour. 

iii 


iv 


Preface 


Pilgrims  to  her  shores  will  ever  bear  our  envy  and  our 
God-speed. 

I  make  no  excuse  for  the  many  references  to  pictures. 
He  must  be  wilfully  blind  who  refuses  the  pleasure  and 
benefit  of  the  artistic  experience  which  is  the  chief 
end  of  a  trip  to  Italy.  The  reader  to  whom  pictures 
make  no  appeal  will  be  hopelessly  out  of  sympathy 
with  our  trip  and  a  description  of  it,  even  though  our 
greatest  pleasure  came  from  the  changing  wonder  of  the 
landscape,  varying  from  day  to  day  in  a  manner  im- 
possible save  in  a  country  like  Italy,  where  a  line  of 
hills  or  a  river  may  separate  districts  that  are  distinct 
in  a  dozen  ways.  To  describe  all  this,  the  colour  of  it, 
the  freshness  of  it,  the  charm  and  appeal  of  it,  is  beyond 
my  powers,  so  perforce  I  must  expatiate  when  I  come 
to  the  artistic,  hoping  to  be  helpful  to  some  and  in- 
teresting to  others  if  I  set  down  accurately  the  im- 
pressions created  on  the  spot  by  the  works  of  local 
artists. 

Catholicity  of  taste,  in  its  avoidance  of  narrowness, 
is  an  excellent  thing,  but  I  premise  that  true  catholicity 
will  exclude  all  but  the  truly  good  in  all  ages.  Beyond 
my  comprehension  is  a  taste  that  applauds  a  Carlo 
Dolci  and  yet  goes  into  raptures  over  a  Tura,  a  Piero 
dei  Franceschi,  or  the  early  Sienese.  Carlo  and 
Sassoferrato  make  their  appeal  to  beginners  in  art- 
study.  Rightly  guided,  the  evolution  of  taste  is  not 
only  rapid  but  almost  invariably  in  one  direction. 
The  really  great  artistic  personality  is  ultimately  sure 


Preface  v 

to  draw  to  himself  the  love  of  those  who  are  exposed 
to  the  influence  of  his  work.  We  may  mourn  the 
taste  of  an  age  that  applauds  an  Asti,  yet  the  certainty 
that  his  art  will  be  condemned  by  posterity  should 
make  us  patient.  Opportunity  to  exert  their  influence 
is  all  that  the  big  men  want,  and  that  is  coming  to 
them,  more  and  more,  through  education,  travel,  and 
the  multiplication  of  photographs. 

My  thanks  are  due  Signor  Guido  Chiesa-Gagliardi, 
of  Florence,  for  his  notes  on  the  life  of  Federico  of 
Urbino,  and  to  Messrs.  Alinari,  of  Florence,  and  Signor 
Anderson,  of  Rome,  for  the  use  of  their  excellent 
photographs. 

Dan  Fellows  Platt. 

Englewood,  New  Jersey, 
Sept.  2  1907. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 


I.    The  Mont  Cenis,  Turin,  Varallo,  Milan    .  i 
II.    Pavia,  Lodi,  Piacenza,  Cremona,  Bergamo  40 

III.  Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua    .  59 

IV.  Vicenza,   Castelfranco,    Bassano,  Udine, 

San  Daniele        .  .        .        .        .  -87 

V.    Venice,  Padua,  Ferrara     ....  109 

VI.    Ravenna,  Rimini,  San  Marino    .        .        .  140 

VII.    Forli,  Faenza,  Parma,  Modena,  Bologna  .  165 

VIII.    The  Raticosa  Pass,  Florence,  Vallombrosa, 

Prato,  Pistoja        .        .        .        .  .193 

IX.    Lucca,  Pisa,  Leghorn,  Volterra,  Colle       .  218 

X.    Siena,  San  Gimignano,  San  Galgano,  Massa  240 

XI.  Monte  Oliveto,  Montalcino,  San  Quirico, 
plenza,  montepulciano,  cltta  della 
Pieve     .        .        .        .        .        .  .271 

XII.    Perugia,  Arezzo,  Montefalco    .        .        .  286 

XIII.      CORTONA,    ClTTA    Dl    CASTELLO,     BoRGO  San 

Sepolcro,  Urbino   .....  310 

XVI.    Pesaro,   Fano,   Senigallia,  Ancona,  Jesi, 

Macerata,  Recanati  Loreto  .        .  329 

XV.    Monte    San    Giusto,    Belforte,  Foligno, 

Spello,  Assisi,  Gubbio    ....  355 

XVI.    Spoleto,    Norcia,    The    Colle  Radicino, 

Aquila  .  ;  .       •.       .       .       .  369 

vii 


viii  Contents 

PAGE 

XVII.    Rieti,  Terni,  Todi,  Orvieto,  Viterbo,  Fe- 

rento,  Villa  Lante        ....  389 

XVIII.    Rome,  Monte  Cavo,  Norba,  Subiaco   .        .  417 

XIX.    Naples,  Sorrento,  Ravello,  P^estum,  Pom- 
peii        .......  450 

XX.    Postscript — Rome  to  Turin       .        .        .  469 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

School  of  Alvise  Vivarini — Portrait  of  a  Boy  Frontispiece 
Susa — Roman  Arch     .......  3 

Susa — Arch  and  Aqueduct         .....  5 

Susa — General  View  .......  7 

The  Priest  of  the  Superga         .....  9 

Threshing  floor,  Vercelli  Rice-fields       .        .  .11 
A  Vercelli  Baby        .        .        .        .        .        .  .12 

Varallo — The  Sacro  Monte       .....  14 

Sacro  Monte — Chapel  of  the  Crucifixion  .        .  .15 
Enjoying  the  view,  Sacro  Monte        .        .        .  .17 

A  Bridge  over  the  Sesia    ......  18 

In  the  Val  Sesia        .......  19 

In  the  Val  Sesia        .......  20 

A  Strange  Church,  near  Arona         .        .        .  .21 

View  near  Alagna     .......  23 

Chalets  at  Riva         .......  24 

Castiglione  d'Olona,  Statue  of  St.  Christopher         .  25 
Masolino — Madonna — Bremen    .....  27 

Gaudenzio  Ferrari — Angels — Saronno  (Detail)  .        .  29 
Luini — Head  of  a  Page — Saronno      ....  33 

Luini — Head  of  the  Virgin — Saronno        .        .  -35 

ix 


X 


Illustrations 


PAGE 

II  Bambaja — Statue  of  Gaston  de  Foix — Milan          .  37 

Pavia — Bridge  over  the  Ticinus        ....  40 

A  Leaf  from  the  Touring  Club  Book         ...  43 

borgognone  annunciation  lodi    ....  47 

Cremona — Cathedral         ......  50 

Bergamo — Portal  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore      .        .  51 
Bergamo — The  Ramparts   .        .        .             •  .  -53 

Moroni — A  Dominican — Frankfurt  55 
Pianico — A  Religious  Procession                              .  '  59 

Moretto — Vision  of  the  Madonna — Paitone       .        .  63 

Moretto — Madonna — Johnson  Collection  ...  67 

Verona — Market-place      .        .        .        .        .  71 

Verona — Statue  of  St.  Peter    .....  72 

Pisanello — Gabriel — Verona    .....  75 

At  the  Bridge  of  Goito      ......  78 

Verona — San  Zeno — Door  Panel       ....  80 

Verona — Cathedral  Cloister     .....  82 

Verona — Statue  of  Can  Grande         ....  83 

Giovanni  Bellini — Baptism — Vicenza         ...  89 

Montagna — Pieta — Vicenza        .....  91 

A  View  in  Vicenza     .......  92 

clttadella  gateway        ......  93 

Farmhouse  near  Vicenza   ......  95 

a  clttadella  donkey         ......  96 

Giorgione — Madonna — Castelfranco         ...  97 

Bassano — Old  Bridge         ......  99 


Illustrations  xi 

PAGE 

Udine — Municipio      .......  102 

Cividale — The  Natisone     .        .        .        .        .  .103 

Cividale — Chapel  of  St.  Peltrudis     ....  104 

Gemona,  from  the  South    ......  106 

Venice — San  Giorgio  Maggiore  .        .        .        .  .111 

S.  del  Piombo — St.  Louis — Venice  .  .  .  -113 
Tiepolo — Ceiling — Venice  (Detail)  .  .  .  117 
Giotto — Simeon  in  the  Temple — Padua       .        .  .119 

donatello  statue  of  gattamelata  padua     .        .  121 

donatello  head  of  gattamelata  padua        .  -123 

Oxen  near  Monselice         ......  126 

Ferrara — Cathedral         .        .        .        .        •.  .127 

Ferrara — Market-place     ......  130 

Tura — Triumph  of  Minerva — Ferrara  (Detail)    .  -131 
Tura — San  Giacomo  della  Marca — Rome    .        .  -133 
Ferrara — Oxen         .......  136 

Garofalo — Madonna — Rome  (Detail)  .        .        .  .137 

Our  First  Trouble — Ferrara  to  Ravenna  .        .        .  140 
Ravenna — A  Capital — San  Vitale      .        .        .  .142 

Empress  Theodora — Mosaic — Ravenna       .        .        .  143 

tullio  lombardo  statue  of  guidarello  ravenna  ,  147 

Ravenna — S.  Apollinare  in  Classe     ....  149 

Ravenna — Dante's  Pineta         .        .        .        .  .150 

The  Rubicon      ........  151 

San  Marino,  from  the  East        .        .        .        .  .153 

San  Marino — An  Outlook  .        .        .        .        .  -155 


xii  Illustrations 

PAGE 

San  Marino — The  Town  Hall    .        .        .        .  -157 

P.  dei  Franceschi — Baptism — London         .        .        .  161 
Giovanni  Bellini — Pieta — Rimini       ....  163 

Cesena — The  Castle  .        .        .        .        .        .  .166 

Melozzo  da  Forli — Gabriel — Florence      .        .        .  167 

Faenza — The  Young  Baptist — Attributed   to  Don- 

atello    .........  169 

Correggio — St.  John — Parma     .        .        .  .  -173 

Correggio — Madonna — Parma  (Detail)         .  .  175 

j.  della  quercia  nativity  bologna        .  .  -179 

Bologna — Leaning  Towers        .        .        .  .  -183 

Costa — Madonna — Bologna        .        .        .  .  .185 

Francia — Madonna — Bologna  (Detail)        .  .  .187 

Vermeer — The  Letter — Simon  Collection  .  .190 

Florence — Cathedral  Dome       .....  194 

Michael  Angelo — Pieta — Florence           .  .  .  195 

Michael  Angelo — Head    of    Lorenzo    de'    Medici — 
Florence        .        .        .        ,        .        .        .  -197 

donatello  annunciation  florence       .       .       .  199 

Filippo  Lippi — Madonna — Florence  (Detail)        .        .  203 

Botticelli — Birth  of  Venus — Florence  (Detail)  205 

Perugino — Head  of  the  Virgin — Florence         .        .  207 

Mazzini,  our  Lightning  Conductor     .        .        .  .210 

The  Val  d'Arno  .......  212 

DONATELLO  PULPIT  PrATO  .  .  .  .  213 

Verocchio  and  di  Credi — Madonna — Pistoja  .  .  216 
Civitali — Madonna — Lucca        .        .        .        .  .219 


Illustrations  xiii 

PAGE 

j.  della  quercia  tomb  of  llaria  lucca          .        .  221 

Vitali — Federico  of  Urbino — Collection  of  the 

Author  .        .        .        .        .        .        .  ..225 

Baroccio  (?) — Federico  of  Urbino — Florence    .        .  227 

Pisa — Cathedral  and  Leaning  Tower         .        .        .  229 

Giovanni  Pisano — Sibyl — Siena  .....  230 

Pisa — The  Arno  in  Flood  ......  233 

On  the  Way  to  Volterra   .        .        .        .        .  235 

Volterra — The  Castle  Wall      .....  236 

Sienese  Cypresses      .......  237 

Pinturicchio — Fresco  (Detail)  Siena          .        .        .  242 

Siena — The  Old  Wall        ......  243 

Sassetta — Marriage  of  St.  Francis — Chantilly          .  245 

Sassetta — St.   Martin   Giving  Alms — Collection  of 

the  Author    ........  247 

Sassetta — St.  Martin  Enters  a  Monastery — Collec- 
tion of  the  Author         ......  249 

Siena — View  from  the  Campanile       .        .        .  .251 

San  Gimignano  from  the  East    .....  253 

Towers  of  San  Gimignano  ......  256 

Lippo  Memmi — Madonna — Siena  .....  257 

Benozzo  Gozzoli — Fresco  (Detail)  San  Gimignano       .  260 

A  San  Gimignano  Baby       ......  261 

Clotho  of  San  Gimignano  .        .        .        .        .  .262 

Sienese  Oxen     ........  263 

A.  LORENZETTI  GABRIEL  SAN  GaLGANO         .           .           .  265 

Abbey  of  San  Galgano       .        .        .        .        .        .  267 


XIV 


Illustrations 


PAGE 

Abbey  of  San  Galgano       .        .        .               .        .  269 

Sheep  near  Siena       .......  272 

Volcanic  Mounds  near  Siena     .....  273 

Villa  Bonsignori,  Entrance      .....  274 

Abbey  of  Sant'  Antimo       ......  277 

San  Quirico — A  Portal      ......  279 

Michelozzo — Aragazzi  Tomb — Montepulciano     .        .  281 

Perugia — Palazzo  Pubblico        .....  286 

Bonfigli — Madonna — Perugia  (Detail)        .        .  .287 

Fiorenzo  di  Lorenzo — Annunciation — Gardiner  Col- 
lection ..........  290 

Boccatis — Madonna — ex-Nevin  Collection        .        .  291 

Perugia — Dyers  of  Wool  ......  294 

P.  dei  Franceschi — Allegories — Florence         .        .  297 

Arezzo — The  Pieve     .......  299 

"Trouble"  near  Bettona  ......  301 

Benozzo  Gozzoli — Fresco — Montefalco      .        .        .  303 

MONTEFALCO  A  LlTTLE  GlRL          .....  305 

Perugia — Volumnii  Tomb   ......  307 

Sassetta — Madonna — Cortona    .        .        .        .  311 

Fra  Angelico — Annunciation — Cortona     .        .  -313 

P.  dei  Franceschi — Resurrection — San  Sepolcro       .  318 

Urbino — Ducal  Palace      ......  321 

Vitali — Federico  of  Urbino — Collection  of  the 

Author  .........  323 

The  San  Severini — Baptism — Urbino  ....  325 

Perugino — Sposalizio — Fano      .        .        .        .  -331 


Illustrations  xv 

PAGE 

Ancona  Cathedral     .......  333 

Ancona  Harbour        .......  334 

Titian — Madonna — Ancona         .        .        .        .        -33  5 

Pinturicchio — Madonna — San  Severino      .        .        .  341 

V.  Crivelli — Madonna — Wilstach  Collection     .        .  343 

Lotto — Annunciation — Recanati       ....  347 

Lotto — A  Young  Widow — Ehrich  Collection     .        .  349 

Signorelli — Ceiling  Fresco — Loreto  (Detail)      .        .  350 

Melozzo  da  Forli — Ceiling  Fresco — Loreto  (Detail)  .  351 

Alunno — Madonna — Fogg  Museum     ....  357 

assisi,  from  the  west       .       .  •            .       .        .  361 

gubbio  from  the  south-west     .....  365 

Oaks  near  Trevi,       .......  370 

Source  of  the  Clitumnus   ....        .        .  371 

spoleto  ponte  delle  torri      .....  373 

The  Gran  Sasso,  from  Amatrice         ....  376 

The  Road  to  Assergi  .......  379 

Assergi      .........  381 

Above  the  Clouds      .......  385 

Falls  of  the  Velino  .......  391 

Todi — The  Piazza       .......  393 

Signorelli — Fresco — Orvieto  (Detail)         .        .        .  395 

Orvieto — Etruscan  Tombs         .....  398 

S.  DEL  PlOMBO  PlETA  VlTERBO  .....  399 

Viterbo — The  Walls          ......  402 

Ferento — Roman  Theatre          .....  403 


xvi  Illustrations 

PAGE 

Ferento — Roman  Theatre         .....  404 

Villa  Lante — A  Stone  Pine        .        .        .        .        .  405 

Norchia — Etruscan  Tombs         .        .        .        .      -  .  407 

Cerveteri — Tomb  of  the  Bas-Reliefs         .        .        .  409 

Corneto — Tomb  of  the  Leopards        .        .        .  .411 

Bieda — Roman  Bridge        .        .        .        .        .  413 

Rome — Madonna — Attributed  to   Gentile  da 

Fabriano        ........  419 

Antoniazzo — Annunciation — Rome     .        .        .  .421 

Velasquez — Innocent  X — Rome         ....  423 

The  Roman  Campagna         ......  425 

Dwellers  on  Monte  Cavo  ......  428 

Roman  Road — Monte  Cavo         .....  429 

Beeches — Monte  Cavo       ......  430 

Norba — Pelasgic  Gateway         .....  431 

Norba — Pelasgic  Wall      ......  432 

Alatri — A  Corner  of  the  Citadel      .        .        .        .  433 

Alatri — An  Entrance  to  the  Citadel        .        .        .  435 

Our  Rescuer      ........  438 

Tivoli — A  Fountain   .......  440 

Subiaco — The  Monasteries        .....  443 

Subiaco — Entrance  to  Monasteries   ....  445 

Olevano — Just  Boys  .......  448 

Portici — Macaroni     .        .        .        .        .        .  45 2 

Valley  of  Atrani       .......  456 

Ravello — Palazzo  Rufolo         .....  457 


Illustrations 

xvii 

PAGE 

Ravello — View  ....... 

459 

Salerno — Ambone  ...... 

463 

PiESTUM — Temple  of  Neptune  ! 

.  466 

Pompeii — The  Gladiators'  Quarters  . 

467 

Settignano — Cypresses  . 

.160 

Fra  Angelico — Annunciation — Monte  Carlo 

470 

T  / 

Borgo  San  Donnino — A  Portal  . 

.472 

Novara — Waiting  for  a  Train  to  Pass 

•  473 

At  Vercelli  ....... 

•  475 

Map  

AT  END 

Through  Italy  with  Car 
and  Camera 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  MONT  CENIS,  TURIN,  VARALLO,  MILAN. 

WE  were  a  thankful  party  as  we  drew  up  before 
the  Albergo  della  Posta  at  the  top  of  the  Mont 
Cenis.  The  last  few  kilometres  of  the  ascent 
from  Susa  had  given  us  an  idea  of  the  fickleness  of 
Alpine  weather.  From  the  warmth  of  a  brilliant 
early  October  morning  we  had  run  up  skyward  into  a 
veritable  blizzard  of  ice,  which  came  into  our  faces 
with  a  velocity  that  the  speed  of  our  "  Fiat "  did  nothing 
to  mitigate.  It  was  the  trial  trip  of  both  motor  and 
chauffeur,  and  the  latter,  "Bertoni"  as  we  called  him, 
felt  that  he  ought  to  make  a  record.  It  will  be  a  long 
time  before  the  occupants  of  the  tonneau  forget  how 
those  rear  wheels  skidded  around  the  turns  as  we  went 
up  the  zigzag  road  from  Molaretto  to  the  custom-house 
at  Bard.  We  could  ask  for  no  better  test  of  the  car's 
hill-climbing  abilities.  From  Susa  to  the  top  of  the 
pass,  a  distance  of  seventeen  miles,  there  is  a  rise  of 
five  thousand  feet. 


2        Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

As  we  came  in  sight  of  the  Italian  barracks  near  the 
top,  a  word  of  warning  from  Bertoni  caused  us  to  stow 
away  our  kodaks.  Military  reasons  confiscate  cameras 
that  come  into  the  neighbourhood,  for  we  are  on  the 
frontier.  As  we  stopped,  a  young  lieutenant  stepped 
forward  and  greeted  Bertoni,  who,  it  turned  out,  had 
been,  as  a  recruit,  in  his  command.  We  refused  his 
offered  cordial  and  sought  warmth  in  the  cheerless- 
looking  albergo.  Its  hospitality  was  above  its  appear- 
ance and  we  were  soon  busy  in  the  discussion  of  trout, 
fresh  from  a  neighbouring  lake,  and  some  very  palatable- 
broiled  chicken.  Bertoni's  appetite  delayed  our  return. 
Until  we  became  used  to  it,  his  absorption  of  "pasta" 
was  almost  miraculous.  We  started  down  again  in 
better  weather,  but  found  the  curves  even  worse  than 
on  the  upward  journey. 

As  we  dropped  lower  and  lower  into  the  warmth  of 
October  chestnut  leaves,  the  fresh  snow  of  the  mountain 
tops  called  for  more  lofty  glances.  Arrived  at  the 
ancient  town  of  Susa,  we  made  our  way  to  the  ruined 
Roman  aqueduct  and  the  triumphal  arch  built  by 
Augustus.  We  had  a  fine  view  of  arch  and  town 
through  the  courtesy  of  some  French  nuns,  who,  recent 
exiles  from  France  in  the  struggle  against  the  religious 
orders,  had  purchased  an  adjoining  property.  A  num- 
ber of  the  sisters  were  working  in  the  vineyard  during 
our  visit,  making  a  picturesque  group.  Susa  is  a  town 
most  fortunate  in  its  situation.  Dropped  into  a  fit 
setting  near  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  Nature  has 


THE  ROMAN  ARCH  SUSA. 


3 


r 


5 


The  Mont  Cenis,  Turin,  Varallo,  Milan  7 

mothered  the  old  Roman  remains  of  arch  and  aqueduct 
and  added  to  their  charm.  We  lingered  long,  and, 
going  at  last,  promised  ourselves  to  come  again. 

Our  hopes  of  a  quick  trip  back  to  Turin,  which  we 
had  left  in  the  morning,  were  fruitless,  for  our  speed 
was  checked  by  the  great  number  of  cattle  in  the  road, 
coming  down  from  the  higher  levels  on  the  approach 
of  cold  weather.  We  should  have  been  thankful  for  the 
delay,  for  too  much  speed  through  such  a  rare  land- 


SUSA. 


scape  were  a  shame.  The  greys  and  red-browns  of  the 
mountains,  the  white  of  the  fresh  snow  and  the  water- 
falls, and  the  varied  incidents  of  peasant  life  about  us, 
kept  our  eyes  and  tongues  busy  till  we  were  well  into  the 
suburbs  of  Turin.  The  Hotel  Europa  finished  our  suc- 
cessful day  with  a  good  dinner  and  we  turned  in  for  the 
sound  slumber  that  invariably  follows  a  ride  in  sun 
and  wind. 


8        Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Turin  is  the  most  fashionable  of  Italian  towns,  is 
very  modern,  and  lacks  the  charm  that  calls  most  of  us 
to  Italy.  Yet  there  are  some  good  pictures  in  the 
gallery  and  there  is  the  view  from  the  Superga,  the 
church  that  sits  on  the  high  hill  across  the  Po,  which 
looks  down  upon  Turin  and  upon  long  miles  of  the 
Piedmontese  plain,  backed  to  the  north  by  the  Alps 
and  to  the  south  by  the  Apennines.  Clear  weather 
gave  us  a  fine  view.  As  we  sat  enjoying  it  an  old 
priest  passed,  reading  his  newspaper.  He  made  a 
picture  and  I  sauntered  after  him  with  my  kodak. 
Holding  it  on  my  arm  and  looking  the  other  way,  I 
hoped  that  he  would  n't  notice  the  click.  A  laugh 
from  the  rest  of  the  party  greeted  my  return.  They 
wanted  a  mirror  to  show  me  my  tell-tale  expression. 
At  any  rate,  the  shot  was  a  success. 

The  most  popular  picture  in  the  Turin  Gallery  is 
Van  Dyck's  Children  of  Charles  I.  but  the  real 
interest  lies  in  the  examples  of  the  local  schools,  in 
Macrino  d'Alba,  Lanini,  and  Gaudenzio  Ferrari.  The 
St.  Francis,  attributed  to  Jan  Van  Eyck  (in  all 
probability  a  copy  of  Mr.  Johnson's  Philadelphia 
picture),  Van  Mieris  the  Elder's  Portrait  of  Himself, 
and  Rembrandt's  Old  Man  Asleep  are  northern  pic- 
tures of  fine  quality.  The  Academy  of  the  Albertina 
contains  important  cartoons  by  Gaudenzio  and  two  in- 
teresting panels  with  figures  of  saints,  by  Fra  Filippo. 

What  I  say  of  Turin  must  be  brief,  my  object  in 
writing  being  to  laud  the  automobile  as  the  best  means 


THE  PRIEST  OF  THE  SUPERGA . 


9 


The  Mont  Cenis,  Turin,  Varallo,  Milan  n 


for  seeing  the  smaller  towns,  art-crowded,  of  which 
Italy  is  so  full.  How  often  have  I  wished  to  stop  at 
some  small  town  when  going  by  train,  when  the  time- 
table made  it  impossible!  If  I  can  make  attractive 
some  of  these  out-of-the-way  places,  I  shall  be  glad. 
Yet  my  feelings  are,  in  a  measure,  mixed.  Time  was 
when  I  urged  Europe-bound  friends  to  go  to  Italy. 
I  am  beginning  to  think  that  that  advice  ought  to  be 


THRESHING-FLOOR  IN  THE  VERCELLI  RICE-FIELDS. 


more  often  withheld  than  given,  for  it  seems  sinful  to 
lay  Italy  open  to  the  criticism  of  those  who  cannot 
appreciate  her  charms.  The  man  who  remembered 
Siena  as  being  "the  place  where  the  train  backs  out 
of  the  station  "  by  no  means  lacks  company.  Let  those 
who  visit  Italy,  then,  and  fail  to  find  her  charm,  stay 
silent,  and  know  that  theirs  is  the  fault  and  that  the 
true  seeker  will  ever  be  rewarded.    A  trip  to  Europe  is  a 


12       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

liberal  education, — to  some  people;  to  others  a  course 
in  menus,  beds,  and  homesickness.  No  one  who  puts  a 
premium  on  material  comfort  need  try  to  follow  the 
author  through  pages  which  are  bound  to  be  enthu- 
siasms. Italy  is  first  and  foremost  the  land  for  the  art- 
lover  and  it  was  as  art-lovers  that  we  made  our  trip. 

I  hope  that  these  notes 
may  be  of  service  to 
others  who  visit  Italy  in 
the  same  spirit. 

Another  morning  found 
us  passing  through  the 
rice-fields  of  the  Po  Val- 
ley, bound  for  Vercelli. 
They  were  threshing  the 
rice  on  the  hard,  earthen, 
threshing-floors  and  we 
stopped  several  times  to 
watch  the  process.  Be- 
fore long  we  caught  our 
first    chicken.  Bertoni 

A  VERCELLI  BABY. 

wasn't  worried  at  the 
catastrophe  as  he  declared  the  wording  of  the  law  to 
be  that  4 'no  one  shall  be  permitted  to  pasture  his 
fowl  on  the  public  road." 

We  went  along  at  a  rapid  rate,  not  recognising  our 
speed  or  the  dust  we  were  creating  till  we  met  another 
Fiat  coming  from  the  opposite  direction.  The  peasants 
are  not  to  be  blamed  if  they  show  a  grievance  at 


The  Mont  Cenis,  Turin,  Varallo,  Milan  13 


automobiles,  for  the  roads,  though  good,  are  very 
dusty,  and  a  chauffeur  with  a  tendency  to  speed  has  it 
in  him  to  choke  a  whole  countryside.  After  travelling 
two  hours  we  arrived  at  a  town  of  many  towers.  Ask- 
ing our  way  to  the  Church  of  S.  Cristoforo  we  were  met 
by  three  or  four  replies  of  ignorance.  With  S.  Caterina 
we  fared  no  better  and  at  last  awoke  to  the  fact  that 
Vercelli  lay  to  the  north  and  that  by  mistake  we  had 
come  to  Casale,  the  former  chief  town  of  the  duchy  of 
Montferrat.  We  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to 
see  the  old  Romanesque  cathedral  and  S.  Domenico. 
The  former,  with  its  solid  style  of  architecture,  is  par- 
ticularly interesting,  and  we  were  glad  of  our  mistake. 

Half  an  hour  took  us  to  Vercelli,  where,  after  lunch 
at  the  Tre  Re,  we  walked  to  S.  Cristoforo.  On  the  way 
a  baby  in  real  un-American  swaddling  bands  became 
of  interest  to  us.  Here,  too,  we  had  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  wine  made  in  true  biblical  style,  the  men  press- 
ing out  the  juice  of  the  grapes  with  their  bare  feet. 
The  wine,  which  flowed  from  a  spigot  at  the  bottom  of 
of  the  press,  was  being  delivered,  fresh  made,  from 
door  to  door. 

S.  Cristoforo  was  enjoying  choir  practice,  children 
and  older  girls  raising  plaintive  voices  in  unison  to  a 
strain  whose  constant  repetition  made  it  stay  with  us 
for  weeks.  Gaudenzio  Ferrari  is  a  Lombard  painter 
who  deserves  to  be  better  known.  His  works  in  S. 
Cristoforo  are  the  most  interesting  things  in  Vercelli. 
They  are  frescoes  of  scenes  from  the  life  of  the  Virgin, 


14       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

admirably  serious  in  style,  something  that  is  lacking 
in  the  later  panel-picture  of  St.  Christopher,  which 
shows  Gaudenzio  under  the  influence  of  Leonardo.  We 
meet  our  artist  again  at  Varallo,  Saronno,  and  Novara. 
Outside  of  Italy  his  works  are  rare.  A  charming 
Madonna  with  two  donors  is  in  the  Naples  Gallery, 
where  it  bears  the  name  of  Gianpetrino. 

After  seeing  S.  Paolo,  S.  Giuliano,  and  the  picture 


THE  SACRO  MONTE  VARALLO. 


gallery,  we  headed  due  north,  up  the  Val  Sesia,  to- 
ward Varallo,  forty  miles  away.  We  passed  Ro- 
magnano,  where  Bertoni  won  his  mechanical  degree  in 
the  technical  school.  Grapes  and  geese  are  the  main 
products  of  the  district.  Many  carts  were  heavy- 
laden  with  the  former.  The  geese  certainly  are  geese 
when  they  have  to  do  with  an  automobile.  At  the 
first  sound  they  make  for  home,  often  flying  straight  at 


The  Mont  Cenis,  Turin,  Varallo,  Milan  17 


the  machine.  I  missed  a  great  chance  for  a  snap-shot 
of  one  old  gander,  who  fell  over  backwards  with  surprise 
when  he  found  himself  bearing  down  upon  us.  His 
feet  went  out  from  under  him  in  a  truly  undignified 
manner.    He  looked  exceedingly  mortified. 

Just  before  reaching  Varallo  we  struck  off  up-hill 


ENJOYING  THE  VIEW  VARALLO. 


to  Civiasco,  in  the  mistaken  belief  that  we  would  have 
a  view  of  Monte  Rosa.  We  had  our  climb,  on  a  most 
narrow  road  with  awkward  turns,  for  nothing.  At 
Varallo  we  put  up  at  the  Albergo  Italia,  which  was 
comfortable.  Trout  from  the  Sesia  added  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  dinner.  Afterwards  we  took  a  stroll  in  the 
fine  moonlight,  looking  up  expectantly  at  the  "Sacro 
Monte,"  Varallo's  lion.  This  is  a  Franciscan  pilgrimage 
institution  consisting  of  a  church  and  some  forty 

chapels,  a  good  half-hour's  walk,  through  the  chestnuts, 
2 


1 8       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


above  Varallo.  Part  way  up,  one  comes  upon  the 
Church  of  the  Madonna  delle  Grazie,  whose  rood-screen, 


IN  THE  VAL  SESIA. 


dated  15 13,  is  by  Gaudenzio  Ferrari.  He  was  thirty- 
two  when  he   painted    this    comprehensive  Life  of 


The  Mont  Cenis,  Turin,  Varallo,  Milan  19 


Christ.  The  composition  is  often  awkward  and  the 
colour  unpleasing,  yet  the  sincerity  of  the  treatment 
holds  our  interest. 

The  Sacro  Monte  chapels  contain  strange  and  wonder- 
ful biblical  representations.  The  objects  in  the  fore- 
ground are  in  terra-cotta,  painted,  while  the  wall  to 
the  rear  is  frescoed.  Gaudenzio  and  his  pupils  prob- 
ably had  a  hand  in  the  fresco  work,  though  repaint  and 


IN  THE  VAL  SESIA. 


restorations  debar  a  judgment  as  to  what  was  originally 
the  work  of  the  master.  The  Chapel  of  the  Crucifixion 
is  the  most  important.  Our  climb  to  the  top,  next 
morning,  was  repaid  as  much  by  the  view  as  by  the 
chapels.  A  wee  snow-point  of  Monte  Rosa  pushed 
itself  above  the  nearer  ridges.  Varallo  lay  at  one's 
feet  in  the  sunshine,  a  restful  sight.    A  couple  of 


20       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

peasant  women  enjoyed  it  also  and  our  camera  has 
preserved  them. 

We  returned  to  Varallo  and  rode  up  to  Alagna 
through  the  wonderful  Val  Sesia.  One  cannot  ad- 
equately describe  the  beauty  of  the  changing  view. 
The  camera  must  do  it  for  one,  yet  no  camera  can  give 
the  warm  glow  of  the  ever-present .  frost- touched  chest- 
nuts.   Every   turn  drew   forth  new   expressions  of 


IN  THE  VAL  SESIA. 

delight.  At  Riva,  two  miles  from  Alagna,  Monte  Rosa 
came  forth  in  all  her  glory,  more  impressive,  by  far, 
than  when  seen  from  the  Zermatt  side.  From  the  ten 
thousand  feet  of  altitude  of  the  Gorner  Grat,  the 
northern  view-point,  the  second  mountain  in  Europe 
fails  to  be  so  imposing  as  from  Riva's  thirty-five 
hundred  elevation.  Riva  and  Alagna,  with  their 
chalet-like  houses,  are  more  Swiss  than  Italian.  The 
whole  atmosphere  is  Alpine.    The  inhabitants,  who 


21 


The  Mont  Cenis,  Turin,  Varallo,  Milan  23 


support  themselves  by  raising  hemp,  speak  a  German 
dialect.  The  swift-flowing  Sesia  adds  a  charm  to  the 
landscape,  crossed  as  it  is,  at  intervals,  by  picturesque 
old  bridges. 

We  found  ourselves  back  at  Varallo  in  time  for  lunch, 
the  road  being  good,  though  narrow,  and  fast  time  a 
possibility.  Lunch  over  and  baggage  put  aboard,  we 
were  off  again  for  Varese,  by  way  of  Romagnano  and 


NEAR  ALAGN 


Arona,  on  Lago  Maggiore.  From  the  high  land  be- 
tween the  latter  places  we  had  splendid  backward 
views  of  Monte  Rosa.  Once  we  missed  our  way,  com- 
ing upon  a  most  remarkable  church,  in  what  village  I 
know  not.  Perhaps  the  illustration  may  lead  to  later 
enlightenment. 

Arona  was  reminiscent  of  a  bicycle  tire,  punctured 
in  a  previous  year.    We  passed  the  shop  where  it  had 


24       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

been  pumped  full  of  some  gluey  invention  called 
"Gaolin."  We  ran  south,  to  the  foot  of  the  lake,  and 
crossed  the  outlet  (the  ancient  Ticinus,  which  recalled 
Hannibal  and  our  Roman  history  days)  at  Sesto 
Calende.  Our  aim  was  to  take  tea  at  a  friend's  villa 
at  a  small  place  called  Gazzada.  The  guttural  dialect 
of  the  district,  combined  with  the  nearness  of  places 
called  Cazzago  and  Casale,  put  us  on  the  wrong  road 


CHALETS  AT  RIVA  VAL  SESIA. 


several  times.  We  arrived  finally,  to  meet  a  cordial 
welcome  and  a  glorious  view  northward  from  the  villa 
terrace  over  the  lake  of  Varese  to  the  Alps.  It  was 
late  when  we  arrived  at  the  Hotel  Excelsior,  at  Varese. 
Incidental  to  the  day's  run  and  to  many  another  were 
the  regularly-heaped  piles  of  broken  stone  by  the 
wayside,  ready  for  repairing  the  road.  November  and 
December  find  these  stones  in  use  to  the  despair  of  all 


STATUE  OF  ST.  CHRISTOPHER  CASTIGLIONE  D'OLONA. 


25 


Bremen 

MASOLINO  MADONNA. 


27 


The  Mont  Cenis,  Turin,  Varallo,  Milan  31 

good  tires,  Samson  or  others.  Stones  and  sleeping 
carters  are  the  bane  of  automobilists  in  Italy.  We 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  if  an  Italian  has 
nothing  to  do  but  drive,  he  sleeps.  Drivers  in  all  and 
sundry  depths  of  slumber  are  a  constant  menace  and 
one  who  likes  to  speed  must  keep  his  eyes  open. 

October  10th,  another  splendid  day,  found  us  off 
early,  bound  south  to  Castiglione  d'Olona,  where 
Masolino's  frescoes  are  the  attraction.  There,  in  front 
of  one  of  the  churches,  is  a  large  statue  of  St.  Chris- 
topher, carrying  the  Christ-Child.  St.  Christopher 
brings  good  luck  and  his  figure  is  usually  made  large 
and  conspicuous  to  the  end  that  luck  may  be  thrust 
upon  the  beholder.  Masolino's  frescoes  are  in  the 
cathedral  and  the  adjoining  baptistery.  The  former, 
in  the  choir  vault,  are  in  ruinous  condition,  a  Sposa- 
lizio  and  a  Coronation  being  all  now  legible.  The 
baptistery  walls  are  covered  with  scenes  from  the 
history  of  John  the  Baptist.  Very  evidently  the  artist 
is  a  contemporary  of  Fra  Angelico.  His  works  here 
should  be  compared  with  those  in  Rome  (S.  Clemente) 
and  with  the  later  ones  in  Florence  (Carmine) .  A  very 
interesting  Madonna  by  him,  dated  1423,  is  in  Bremen. 
As  I  have  never  seen  it  reproduced,  I  hope  the  accom- 
panying kodak  will  be  excused. 

From  Castiglione,  a  few  kilometres  brought  us  to 
Saronno,  where  Gaudenzio  Ferrari  greets  us  with  one 
of  his  best  works,  a  frescoed  dome,  with  God  the 
Father  in  a  glory  of  cherubs  and  music-making  angels. 


3 2       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Some  of  the  details  are  very  beautiful.  Luini,  too, 
Gaudenzio's  contemporary,  is  seen  at  Saronno,  in 
frescoes  too  suave  to  be  great  art,  yet  insistently  pleas- 
ing, even  to  a  trained  eye.  Many  a  head  in  the 
Sposalizio  or  in  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi  is  of 
great  beauty.  These  works,  dated  1525,  show  deteri- 
oration from  the  refinement  of  Luini' s  earlier  period, 
when  he  painted  the  Brer  a  Burial  of  St.  Catherine.  We 
reached  Milan  after  a  further  short  ride. 

Milan  contains  more  of  interest  than  the  ordinary 
tourist  recognises.  Obvious  attractions  are  the  cathe- 
dral, Leonardo's  Last  Supper,  the  Brera,  and  the 
ancient  church  of  S.  Ambrogio,  with  its  relics,  mediaeval 
and  of  the  Renaissance,  brimming  with  historic  in- 
terest. The  Castello,  in  its  gradually  growing  fund  of 
Lombard  art,  both  pictured  and  sculptural,  contains  one 
of  the  most  important  collections  in  Italy.  Here  are 
the  fragments  of  II  Bambaja's  monument  to  the  youth- 
ful victor  of  Ravenna,  Gaston  de  Foix,  whose  chiselled 
profile  shares  our  favour  with  that  of  Ilaria  del  Carretto 
at  Lucca  and  of  the  Guerriere  at  Ravenna.  The  long 
series  of  Sforza  portraits,  attributed  to  Luini,  serves  as 
apt  illustration  to  Mrs.  Cartwright's  book  on  Beatrice 
d'  Este.  The  Poldi-Pezzoli,  Ambrosiana,  Borromeo, 
and  Crespi  collections  are  singularly  attractive  and  will 
pay  for  all  the  time  one  can  give  to  them.  Signor 
Crespi 's  portrait  of  Cater ina  Cornaro  is  splendidly 
virile,  however  much  the  critics  may  quarrel  over  its 
attribution  to  Titian.    One  should  visit  S.  Maurizio 


(From-  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi.) 


33 


LUINI  HEAD  OF  THE  VIRGIN. 

(Detail  of  the  Sposalizio.) 


35 


The  Mont  Cenis,  Turin,  Varallo,  Milan  39 


for  the  Luini  frescoes,  of  which  John  Ruskin  was  so  fond, 
and  the  Palazzo  Clerici  for  a  splendid  ceiling  by  Tiepolo. 
Those  athletically  inclined  can  get  enjoyment  in  a 
climb  to  the  roof  of  the  cathedral,  which,  if  one  is 
lucky  enough  to  get  a  very  clear  day,  affords  a  fine 
view  of  the  Alps. 


CHAPTER  II. 

PA  VIA,  LODI,  PIACENZA,  CREMONA,  BERGAMO. 

NO  one  should  miss  running  from  Milan  to  Pa  via, 
the  old   Lombard   capital,  whose  celebrated 
university  appeals  to  Americans  as  the  alma 
mater  of  Columbus.    Pavia  lies  on  the  Ticinus,  just 
above  its  junction  with  the  Po.    The  sun  made  us  wait 

for  a  photograph  of 
the  picturesque  old 
bridge,  but  repaid 
us  in  the  end.  The 
early  Lombard 
church  of  S.  Michele 
Maggiore  is  ex- 
tremely interesting. 

BRIDGE  OVER  THE  TICINUS,  PAVIA. 

One  gets  the  same 
impression  as  that  given  by  Norman  work,  an 
impression  of  dignity  and  strength.  The  university 
buildings,  in  the  centre  of  the  town,  large  but  architec- 
turally uninteresting,  were  not  worth  a  visit,  so  we 
passed  on  to  the  church  of  San  Pietro  in  Ciel  d'Oro, 
which  contains  the  body  of  St.  Augustine  and  his 
remarkable  fourteenth-century  monument.    The  huge 

Castello,  intimately  connected  with  the  name  of  Ludo- 

40 


Pavia,  Lodi,  Piacenza,  Cremona,  Bergamo  41 

vico  il  Moro,  the  powerful  lord  of  Milan,  husband  of 
Beatrice  d'  Este,  is  no  longer  accessible,  being  used  as  a 
barrack. 

The  Certosa  of  Pavia,  a  Carthusian  church  and  mon- 
astery, lies  five  miles  to  the  north  of  the  town.  We 
visited  it  on  our  way  back  to  Milan.  The  lavishly 
decorated  facade  is  interesting,  even  to  those  who  cry 
out  for  greater  purity  of  taste.  The  interior  contains 
frescoes  and  altarpieces  by  Ambrogio  Borgognone,  an 
artist  whose  Madonnas  have  a  winsome  sweetness  that 
is  tempered  by  a  goodly  leaven  of  strength.  Bor- 
gognone was  a  true  Lombard  and  therefore  historically 
more  important  than  the  many  artists  who  forsook  the 
teachings  of  the  native  school  for  the  glamour  that 
surrounded  Leonardo  and  produced  a  hybrid  art  that 
is  pleasing  but  of  small  individuality.  Borgognone's 
own  pupil,  Luini,  whom  we  have  seen  at  Saronno  and 
in  "the  Milanese  collections,  is  in  himself  an  example  of 
both  tendencies.  How  superior  are  his  early  works, 
such  as  the  Burial  of  St.  Catherine,  in  the  Brera,  to  the 
later  Leonardesque  pictures  that  flowed  from  his 
fluent  brush!  The  greatest  artists  are  far  from  being 
the  greatest  teachers.  They  themselves  reach  a  point 
of  eminence  to  which  their  pupils,  striving,  fail  to 
attain,  becoming  mere  imitators.  Raphael,  Michael 
Angelo,  and  Leonardo  illustrate  the  truth  of  this. 

The  Certosa  contains  the  cenotaph  of  Ludovico  il 
Moro  and  Beatrice  d'  Este,  by  Cristoforo  Solari,  and  a 
noble  Madonna  by  Montagna,  a  truly  great  artist,  many 


42       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

of  whose  works  we  shall  see  later  in  his  home  town  of 
Vicenza.  The  two  cloisters  are  interesting,  the  larger 
giving  t  one  the  best  views  of  the  construction  of  the 
Certosa,  the  view  from  the  front  of  the  building  being 
handicapped  by  the  high  wall  surrounding  the  property 
of  the  monastery. 

The  road  back  to  Milan  seemed  even  more  dusty  than 
it  had  in  the  morning.  It  was  worse  than  our  Italian 
Touring  Club  guide-book  had  led  us  to  believe,  a 
variance  from  accuracy  which  is  of  rare  occurrence. 
Membership  in  the  Touring  Club  is  a  great  boon  to 
automobilists  and  cyclists  and  we  availed  ourselves  of 
the  opportunity  to  join  as  soon  as  we  could.  The 
headquarters  of  the  Club  are  in  Milan,  Piazza  Durini  7. 
A  membership  costs  eight  lire  the  first  year  (about 
$1.60)  and  six  lire  each  succeeding  year.  This  entitles 
one  to  all  the  publications  of  the  Club,  which  are  in- 
valuable. Lists  of  hotels,  garages,  gasoline  sellers, 
etc.,  form  one  handy  volume.  Prices  are  quoted 
throughout  and  failure  of  a  man  to  meet  the  prices 
quoted  will  result  in  his  name  being  stricken  from  the 
book.  Club  members  get  a  discount  of  ten  per  cent, 
from  their  hotel  bills,  in  many  cases,  particularly  in 
northern  Italy.  The  Club's  road-guide  contains  val- 
uable information  in  compact  form.  Distances,  grades, 
quality  of  road  (distinguished  as  to  different  seasons 
of  the  year  and  as  to  wet  or  dry  weather),  etc.,  are 
tersely  set  forth.  The  tourist  is  able  at  all  times  to 
find  "where  he 's  at"  by  comparing  the  guide  with  the 


181.  Perugia-Giibbio-Scheggia  (Km.  52.-), 


(Vedi  la  Pianta  di  Perugia  a  pag.  67.) 


L0CAL1TA 

Distanze  in 

Km. 

Posta 

Stazionl  pros- 

Par- 

Pro- 

Decre- 

Popolazioni 

Tel.  Ferr. 

siniiori  e  di- 

ziali 

gress. 

scent'! 

Carab. 

stanze  in  Km. 

[164  Arezzo  -  164  Foligno  -  172  Todi  -  176  Cittit  della  Pieve  -  182  Cittit  di  Ca* 
stello,] 

Perugia  (Pta  S.Margherita) 

Id.     (Pta  Pesa)  

Ponte  Felcino  (Ponte  sul 

Tevere)  .  ,  .  „  ,  

B.  s.  p.  S.  Sepolcro  [182]  . 

Piccione  

Gubbio  (Centro)  

[180  Calmazzo  -  180  Sigiilo 
e  Folic/no.]  i 


Perugia 
/<50 

Km.  <  i  2-     3      4      5      6      7      8     9     10     11     12     13    14     15     16    17     18     19  20 


0.0 
0.4 

7.- 
2.3 
6.1 
24.- 
125 


0.0  52.-!  17395-51354  Pl  ta  P  c  Staz.  Km.  3 
0.4  51.6J 


7.4 
9.7 
15.8 
39.8 
52.- 


44.6 
42.3 
36.2 
12.2 
0.0 


5540-23316 


p8  t*  f1  c 
p2 1*  c 


Gubbio  a 
Km.  12 


670  662 


^25  430  413 


447 


@  Gubbio 
475  JE2 


Km.  21    22    23    24    25    26    27    28    29    30    31    32    33    2i    35    36    37    38    39  Q 

Strada  —  Perugia-Gub- 
bio-Scheggia :  buona  o  buo- 
nissima  sino  a  Gubbio,  tranhe 
nel  tratto.  Piccione.  —  Piano 
di  Gubbio,  ov'6  cattiva,  sas- 
sosa  e  falicosa.  —  Banchinc 
Km.  41  42  .  43  44  45  46  47  48  49  50  51  52  poco  buone.  —  Abbastanza 
Jbuona  e  DSn  lenuta,  ma  piuttosto  falicosa  da  Gubbio  a  Scheggia, 


A  LEAF  FROM  THE  TOURING  CLUB'S  BOOK. 


43 


Pavia,  Lodi,  Piacenza,  Cremona,  Bergamo  45 


kilometre  stones  of  the  roadside.  In  northern  Italy 
there  are  usually  ten  smaller  posts  to  each  kilometre, 
whose  distance  apart  figures  out  just  one  sixteenth 
of  a  mile,  a  kilometre  being  five  eighths  of  a  mile. 
Speed  tally  by  the  watch  is  in  such  a  case  a  matter  of 
very  simple  calculation.  We  joined  the  Club  and  had 
ourselves  photographed  in  miniature  for  use  on  our 
club  cards,  refilled  our  emergency  lunch-basket,  for- 
warded our  heavier  luggage  to  Bergamo,  and  were  off 
bright  and  early  one  morning  for  a  long  day's  trip. 
Leaving  Milan  by  the  Porta  Romana,  by  nine  o'clock 
we  were  at  Lodi,  on  the  Adda,  at  whose  bridge 
Napoleon  gained  glory.  Milan  is  a  magnet  that  draws 
immense  traffic  to  itself  and  as  a  consequence  we  found 
the  road  to  Lodi  much  be-carted  and  very  dusty. 
Lodi's  chief  attraction  is  the  small,  finely  decorated 
church  of  the  Incoronata.  The  Piazza  family  of 
painters,  native  to  the  place,  are  here  represented  by 
several  works.  The  cathedral  and  the  church  of  S. 
Agnese  contain  others.  Borgognone  gives  the  In- 
coronata its  greatest  adornment  by  pictures  of  the 
Annunciation,  Visitation,  Adoration  of  the  Kings  and 
Simeon  in  the  Temple. 

From  Lodi  to  Piacenza,  thirty-eight  kilometres,  we 
made  good  time.  From  Milan  to  Piacenza,  and 
straight  on,  diagonally,  across  the  peninsula  to  Rimini, 
the  road,  turnless  and  gradeless,  follows  the  line  of  the 
Roman  Via  ^Emilia.  One  wonders  how  deep  a  founda- 
tion exists  under  the  broad  but  dusty  modern  highway. 


46       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Just  before  Piacenza  was  reached,  we  crossed  the  Po 
on  a  plank-covered  bridge  of  boats,  whose  roughness 
gave  us  a  good  jouncing.  We  went  first  to  the  Palazzo 
Farnese,  a  large  building,  now  a  barrack.  The  six- 
teenth century  is  writ  large  on  this  creation  of  Vignola. 
The  church  of  San  Sisto  is  interesting  chiefly  for  the 
copy  of  Raphael's  Madonna  of  that  name,  which 
replaces  the  Dresden  original.  Pordenone,  a  four- 
square artist  who  often  fails  to  do  himself  justice,  is 
seen  in  the  church  of  Madonna  di  Campagna,  in  some 
mediocre  works.  The  best  of  them,  representing  St. 
George  and  the  Dragon,  had  never  been  photographed, 
so  we  had  to  make  shift  with  our  camera.  A  young 
priest  helped  to  move  some  obstructive  furniture,  a 
kindness  in  line  with  other  similar  acts  of  a  people 
among  whom  courtesy  begets  courtesy.  The  result  of 
our  effort  was  a  photograph  that  is  too  poor  to  re- 
produce. The  picture  gallery  contains  several  good 
works,  among  them  a  "tondo"  of  the  school  of  Botti- 
celli (a  Madonna  of  the  Rose-garden)  and  a  head  of 
Christ  by  Antonello  da  Messina,  the  eyes  of  which  are 
remarkably  sad  and  piercing.  The  Municipio,  a  build- 
ing with  some  interesting  windows,  contains  pictures 
that  are  not  worth  a  visit.  Piacenza's  cathedral  is  very 
interesting  externally  and  more  so  internally.  Its 
Lombard  style  stands  the  test  of  a  close  acquaintance. 
The  remains  of  early  frescoes  by  unknown  hands,  which 
adorn  the  walls,  would  surely  repay  study.  Research 
should  add  to  the  meagre  data  we  have  concerning  them. 


Alinari  photo. 

BORGOGNONE  44  THE  ANNUNCIATION." 


47 


Pavia,  Lodi,  Piacenza,  Cremona,  Bergamo  49 

From  Piacenza  north-east  to  Cremona  is  a  run  of 
thirty-one  kilometres.  Wanting  lunch,  we  made  quick 
work  of  it,  though  a  false  start  delayed  us  a  bit. 
Cremona-bound  passengers,  leaving  Piacenza  by  the 
Porta  S.  Lazzaro,  should  keep  to  the  left,  asking  the 
way  to  Roncaglia. 

Crossing  the  Po  again  and  entering  Cremona,  the 
town  of  fiddles,  we  went  to  the  "Cappello  ed  Italia" 
to  enjoy  a  meal  that  gave  us  a  novelty  in  fried  squid,— 
miniature,  octopus-like  creatures,  excellent  eating  in 
spite  of  their  toughness.  We  fed  the  Fiat,  too,  with 
gasoline,  "benzina,"  whose  price  portended  great  ex- 
cellence. In  Italy,  the  average  cost  of  what  approx- 
imates a  gallon  is  eighty  cents,  a  price  due  to  the  high 
import  and  local  taxes.  Invariably  the  gasoline  is  of 
American  make,  sold  by  weight  at  about  one  lira  the 
kilogramme. 

Long  before  we  crossed  the  Po,  Cremona's  "Tor- 
razzo,"  a  tower  four  hundred  feet  high,  had  been  in 
sight.  Lunch  over,  it  was  our  first  object.  We  found 
it  serving  as  campanile  to  the  Duomo,  the  two  build- 
ings forming  an  admirable  group.  The  Lombard 
facade  of  the  Duomo  has  been  partly  spoiled  by  a  later 
sprinkling  of  sculptured  ornament  out  of  keeping  with 
the  severity  of  the  early  work.  Boccaccino,  Cremona's 
greatest  painter,  did  some  creditable  work  here.  His 
frescoed  vault 'ng  of  the  apse  is  an  excellent  piece  of 
decoration.  Romanino  and  Pordenone  also  worked 
here,  but  in  a  style  far  below  their  best.    The  pictures 


So       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


in  the  museum  are  interesting  but  none  are  of  first  im- 
portance. Boccaccino  is  represented  by  a  signed  work. 
The  church  of  S.  Agostino  contains  a  typical  Madonna 
and  Saints  by  Perugino,  a  sterling  artist  who  will  some 
day  be  appreciated  at  a  higher  value. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  we  left  Cremona 
for  Bergamo,  eighty-two  kilometres  to  the  north.  We 
reached  Crema,  the  half-way  point,  in  time  to  see  her 


THE  CATHEDRAL  CREMONA. 


cathedral  and  towers  outlined  against  the  sunset.  We 
could  delay  here  but  little,  preferring  to  give  more  of 
our  time  to  the  Bramantesque  church  of  S.  Maria  della 
Croce,  to  the  north  of  the  town,  which  is  architecturally 
interesting.  Like  most  churches  of  the  district,  it  is 
surmounted  by  a  small,  conical,  tile-covered  pinnacle. 
As  the  sun  went  down  a  great  silver  moon  came  up 
and  lighted  our  road  so  that  lamps  were  not  thought  of 


PORTAL  OF  SANTA  MARIA  MAGGIORE  BERGAMO. 


51 


Pavia,  Lodi,  Piacenza,  Cremona,  Bergamo  53 

till  we  arrived  outside  of  Bergamo.  We  went  to  the 
station  for  our  grips  and  then  to  the  Hotel  Concordia, 
whose  cuisine  is  rightly  esteemed.  Lack  of  time  had 
prevented  our  going  to  Treviglio,  where  an  altarpiece 
by  Zenale  and  Butinone  is  the  matter  of  interest.  An 
amusing  incident  of  the  afternoon  was  caused  by  our 
frightening  some  geese,  which  made  a  great  rush  for 
the  barn-yard  gate.    Mr.  Dog,  hearing  the  car  coming, 


THE  RAMPARTS  OF  BERGAMO. 


rushed  through  the  gate  into  the  midst  of  the  geese, 
producing  an  awful  mix-up.  The  district  through 
which  we  passed  is  made  productive  by  an  excellent 
system  of  irrigation.  We  saw  a  number  of  threshing 
floors  used  to  thresh  Indian  corn,  which  is  grown  here 
in  quantity.  Dinner  over,  a  walk  in  the  moonlight 
along  the  bastions  of  the  upper  town  made  a  poetic 
prelude  to  a  sound  sleep. 


54       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

We  awoke  to  a  brilliant  day,  one  of  a  series  that  went 
with  us  all  the  way  to  Venice.  A  short  walk  brought 
us  to  the  "funicular"  that  connects  the  lower  town 
with  the  upper,  where  the  piazza,  with  the  inevitable 
statue  of  Garibaldi,  lies  surrounded  by  the  most 
important  buildings  of  the  old  city,  the  "  Torre  del 
Comune,"  the  cathedral  (with  an  attractive  Madonna 
by  the  Giorgionesque  Cariani),  and  the  much  earlier 
church  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  whose  interior  has 
been  ruined  by  remodelling.  The  old  portals  are  ex- 
cellent. Adjacent  is  the  chapel  founded  by  the  great 
condottiere,  Bartolommeo  Colleoni,  one  of  the  most 
famous  of  Italy's  mercenary  captains.  His  tomb  and 
that  of  his  daughter,  Medea,  by  Amadeo,  are  interesting. 
Tiepolo,  the  last  of  Venice's  great  line  of  mural  painters, 
decorated  the  ceiling  of  the  chapel.  We  have  met  him 
before,  at  his  best,  in  the  Palazzo  Clerici  at  Milan. 
Bartolommeo  passed  his  last  years  at  the  castle  of 
Malpaga,  eight  miles  from  Bergamo,  which  may  be 
visited  for  the  sake  of  frescoes  by  Romanino.  The 
image  of  the  condottiere  which  one  carries,  however,  is 
not  drawn  from  Romanino,  for  we  have  in  Venice  that 
masterly  figure,  one  with  the  steed  it  bestrides,  which 
reputation  gives  to  the  Florentine,  Verocchio.  Here 
pomp  and  the  pride  of  life  speak  to  us  so  strongly  in  the 
Venetian  spirit  that  we  must  wonder  if  reputation  be 
not  at  fault  in  limiting  to  the  pedestal  the  share  of 
Leopardi  in  the  work  left  unfinished  at  Verocchio's 
death.     The  suggestion   once   made,    the  Venetian 


55 


Pavia,  Lodi,  Piacenza,  Cremona,  Bergamo  57 

feeling  in  the  work  comes  stronger  and  stronger  with 
time. 

We  walked  back  to  the  hotel,  on  the  way  renewing 
our  acquaintance  with  Lotto's  altarpieces  in  the 
churches  of  S.  Bernardino,  Santo  Spirito,  and  S.  Bar- 
tolommeo.  Lotto  was  an  artist  among  whose  many 
qualities  that  of  sympathy  most  endears  him  to  us. 
Bergamo  vies  with  the  Marches  in  the  beauty  of  his 
works.  We  owe  Mr.  Berenson  thanks  for  his  book  on 
Lotto,  which  broadens  its  scope  to  an  inclusion  of  many 
questions  in  the  development  of  Venetian  art.  The 
discussion  of  Alvise  Vivarini,  whose  pupil  Lotto  was, 
and  the  treatment  given  his  school,  interest  us  as 
possessors  of  a  portrait  which  surely  derives  from 
Alvise.  A  more  definite  attribution  is  difficult.  It  is 
hoped  that  the  illustration  (see  frontispiece)  may  cause 
some  light  to  be  thrown  on  the  matter. 

We  visited  the  picture  gallery,  which  now  includes 
the  legacy  of  the  art-lover  Morelli,  who  brought  fame 
to  his  town  as  one  of  the  greatest  of  critics.  Local 
masters,  particularly  Moroni,  Cariani,  and  Previtali, 
are  well  represented.  Moroni  was  a  great  portrait- 
painter  and  well  deserved  Titian's  complimentary  ad- 
vice to  would-be  sitters  from  Bergamo:  "Go  back  to 
your  home  artist;  he  paints  as  well  as  I."  The  Staedel 
Institute  at  Frankfurt  contains  one  of  his  most  charac- 
teristic works. 

Bertoni  met  us  at  the  gallery  and  we  sped  out  of  the 
Porta  S.  Cater ina  to  Alzano,  a  small  town  lying  in  the 


58       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Val  Serio,  four  miles  from  Bergamo.  Lotto's  picture 
here,  the  Death  of  Peter  Martyr,  is  extremely  interest- 
ing from  a  critical  point  of  view,  showing,  as  it  does,  the 
influence  of  Palma.  Bound  next  for  Trescorre  and 
more  Lottos,  we  found  it  easier  to  return  first  to 
Bergamo  and  to  go  out  again  by  the  Porta  S.  Antonio, 
rather  than  to  run  farther  up  the  Serio  Valley  in  search 
of  a  crossing.  Trescorre  is  about  ten  miles  from 
Bergamo,  on  the  road  to  Lovere.  Lotto's  works,  in 
an  oratory  belonging  to  the  Villa  Suardi,  tell  us  the 
stories  of  Sts.  Barbara  and  Clara.  Berenson,  in  treat- 
ing of  these  frescoes,  emphasises  the  fact  that  Lotto  is 
that  rara  avis  in  Italian  art,  a  true  painter  of  genre. 


CHAPTER  III. 

LOVERE,  ISEO,  BRESCIA,  VERONA,  MANTUA. 

NEXT  morning  found  us  passing  Trescorre  again, 
bound  for  Lovere  on  the  Lake  of  Iseo.  Twenty- 
five  miles  brought  us  to  Pianico,  which  over- 
looks the  lake.    Here,  in  the  narrow  street,  we  caught 


A  RELIGIOUS  PROCESSION  PIANICO. 

up  with  a  procession  of  men  and  women,  carrying  can- 
dles and  chanting.  They  acted  as  escort  to  a  number 
of  young  girls  dressed  in  white  for  their  first  com- 
munion. We  waited  until  the  procession  went  to  the 
far  end  of  the  village  and,  turning  again,  passed  us  with 

59 


6o       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

measured  solemnity.  The  fervour  of  devotion  that 
beamed  upon  the  faces  of  these  poor  peasants  was 
impressive. 

Our  road  dropped  in  steep  windings  down  to  the 
lake,  one  view  after  another  bringing  forth  exclama- 
tions from  our  enthusiastic  party.  Reaching  the  shore, 
we  sped  north  for  a  bit  and  drew  up  in  front  of  the 
picture  gallery  at  Lovere.  We  had  trouble  in  getting 
the  custodian,  but  when  we  succeeded,  we  were  repaid 
by  the  sight  of  several  good  pictures.  A  Madonna  by 
that  rarely  seen  master,  Jacopo  Bellini,  held  our  chief 
interest.  Jacopo  is  best  studied  in  his  sketch-books  in 
London  and  Paris.  The  Uffizi  Gallery  has  recently 
acquired  a  Madonna  very  similar  to  that  at  Lovere, 
and  Don  Guido  Cagnola,  of  Milan,  has  become  the 
fortunate  possessor  of  another  that  shows  markedly 
the  influence  of  Gentile  da  Fabriano,  the  Umbrian 
artist  whose  teaching  Jacopo  rewarded  in  the  naming 
of  his  elder  son.  Lovere  has  a  typical  Madonna  and 
Saints  by  Paris  Bordone,  an  artist  whose  overdone  ro- 
bustness meets  with  less  disfavour  than  it  should.  Vin- 
cenzo  Civerchio,  a  painter  of  a  lower  grade,  is  here  re- 
presented by  two  signed  works  historically  interesting. 

Lovere's  church  of  Santa  Maria  has  an  Assump- 
tion, by  Moroni,  on  the  high-altar.  Moroni  was  less 
successful  with  his  religious  pictures  than  with  his. 
portraits.  This  Assumption,  however,  is  a  good 
work,  the  upper  part  being  especially  fine.  The 
fourth  and  fifth  chapels  to  the  left,  in  the  nave,  are 


Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua  61 


the  most  interesting  in  the  church.  They  are  fres- 
coed, walls  and  ceilings,  by  Floriano  Ferramola,  the 
teacher  of  Moretto,  Brescia's  greatest  painter.  Over 
the  entrance  to  the  fifth  chapel  is  an  Annunciation 
which  may  possibly  be  an  early  work  of  Moretto. 
On  the  arches  of  the  nave  are  twelve  medallions, 
signed  works  of  Ferramola.  A  thorough  study  of 
the  church  would  answer  many  a  question  relative 
to  Moretto's  development,  as  Ferramola  shows  qual- 
ities which  Moretto  is  usually  credited  with  originating, 
but  which  we  must  now  believe  he  simply  strengthened 
.and  intensified. 

We  went  north  along  the  lake  and  were  soon  at  its 
upper  end,  into  which  the  Oglio  flows.  The  first  road 
to  the  east,  across  the  stream,  possessed  a  bridge  of 
so  dangerous  an  appearance  that  we  feared  to  trust 
the  weight  of  the  Fiat  upon  it,  and  so  continued  on  to 
Corna,  ten  kilometres  farther, — where  we  turned  south 
on  the  excellent  road  leading  to  Iseo.  Had  we  kept 
on  to  the  north  an  hour  longer,  we  would  have  reached 
the  pilgrimage  church  of  Madonna  di  Tirano, — where, 
as  a  youngster,  I  had  been  during  the  feast  of  the 
Assumption.  The  church  had  been  crowded  by  peas- 
ants, mostly  women,  in  costumes  as  variegated  as  the 
rainbow.  The  handkerchiefs  used  as  head-coverings 
were  particularly  gorgeous.  Above  all,  I  remember 
the  heat,  the  most  intense  I  have  ever  known.  Our 
driver  had  refused  to  let  his  horses  resume  the  journey 
till  it  was  almost  dark. 


62       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

The  road  to  Iseo,  twenty  miles  in  length,  ran 
close  to  the  shore  of  the  lake,  often  passing  through 
short  tunnels  where  the  spurs  of  the  hills  formed 
peninsulas.  The  views  of  lake  and  hill  were  smothered 
in  a  glory  of  autumn  colour,  and  Iseo  came  into  sight 
all  too  soon,  hungry  though  we  were.  There  we  had 
a  good  lunch  on  a  terrace  built  over  the  lake.  The 
landlord  of  the  Golden  Lion  tempted  us  with  fresh 
trout,  which  were  excellent.  A  very  fast  run  of  thir- 
teen miles  brought  us  to  Brescia.  We  remembered 
the  Albergo  d'  Italia  as  comfortable  and  were  not  dis- 
appointed by  our  reception. 

The  hotel  faced  on  a  long  piazza.  Our  rooms 
opened  onto  a  balcony,  a  circumstance  which  fur- 
nished us  entertainment  for  the  evening.  From  eight 
o'clock  till  eleven  we  sat  looking  down  at  what  must 
have  been  the  total  population  of  Brescia.  Bands  were 
playing  and  soldiers  were  everywhere,  for  Brescia  is  a 
great  garrison  town.  The  officers,  with  their  long  blue 
capes  and  brilliant  gold  braid;  the  Bersaglieri,  with 
bunches  of  green  cock-plumes  waving  down  from  their 
hats;  the  police  with  their  red  pompons,  going  always 
two  by  two;  and  the  soldiers  in  the  red  fez  of  their  un- 
dress uniform,  made  a  variegation  that  went  well  with 
the  bright  colours  in  which  the  fair  maids  of  Brescia 
had  decked  themselves  for  their  Sunday-evening  pro- 
menade. Into  the  turmoil  below  us  came  the  young 
seminary  students  in  long  black  gowns,  marching  two 
by  two  with  a  band  at  their  head.    Some  of  the  very 


63 


Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua  65 

small  boys  were  rapturously  cute  in  their  costume, 
but  they  should  have  been  in  bed,  something  we 
prescribed  for  ourselves  not  long  after. 

In  Brescia  came  news  of  the  result  of  the  "  Vanderbilt 
Cup."  Bertoni  was  overcome  by  the  fact  that  Lancia 
had  a  heart-breaking  mishap  and  failed  thereby  to 
land  the  Fiat  a  winner.  We  felt  rather  partisan  about 
it  ourselves.  The  reports  of  the  race  in  the  Italian 
papers  were  tremendously  readable.  Mr.  Keene  was 
down  as  "  II  Foschal."  In  the  same  edition  was  a  re- 
ference to  the  mayor  of  "Nuova  York,"  "Signor  Mac- 
levellen." 

Brescia's  chief  importance  to  the  student  is  given 
her  by  the  works  of  two  great  masters,  Romanino  and 
Moretto.  Romanino  was  the  elder  by  some  ten  years. 
As  a  brilliant  colourist  he  has  few  equals.  His  work 
often  lacks  refinement  and  is  extremely  uneven  in 
quality,  but  he  is,  notwithstanding,  an  artist  of  great 
interest.  His  best  altarpieces  are  in  the  Padua  Gallery, 
the  church  of  San  Francesco  in  Brescia,  and  the 
National  Gallery  in  London.  The  first  of  these  is 
aglow  with  richness  of  tone.  The  Brescia  Gallery  and 
the  churches  of  S.  Giovanni  Evangelista  and  S.  Maria 
Calchera  contain  other  good  works  by  him.  Moretto 
is  an  artist  of  a  more  serious  type,  purer  in  his  forms 
and  colour.  His  nobility  of  conception  demands  a 
wider  reputation  than  has  as  yet  been  his.  His  colour 
in  its  silvery  tone  counterfoils  the  warmth  of  Romanino. 
Moretto's  nobility  shows  itself  best,  perhaps,  in  the 

5 


66       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

picture  at  Paitone,  near  Brescia.  Here  the  Virgin  is 
represented  appearing  to  a  deaf  and  dumb  child,  who, 
miraculously  healed,  is  later  able  to  tell  of  the  miracle. 
In  the  wonderfully  beautiful  figure  of  the  Virgin 
Moretto  surpasses  his  own  similar  figures  in  Vienna 
and  in  San  Francesco  at  Brescia.  The  Paitone  picture 
is  somewhat  inaccessible,  but  is  well  worth  a  visit. 
We  had  seen  it  previously  at  the  Brescia  exhibition  of 
1898.  Brescia's  gallery  and  churches  are  full  of  Mo- 
retto's  works.  The  churches  of  S.  Cristo  and  SS. 
Nazzaro  e  Celso  are  particularly  noteworthy  in  this 
respect.  The  collection  of  Mr.  Johnson,  in  Phila- 
delphia, boasts  a  splendid  Moretto  among  its  many 
treasures — the  Virgin  and  Child  and  two  donors.  It 
is  reproduced  here  with  Mr.  Johnson's  kind  permission. 
Moretto's  best  portrait  is  in  the  National  Gallery,  a 
splendid  full-length  of  an  Italian  nobleman,  dated 
1526. 

Brescia's  other  treasures  embrace  the  well-known 
bronze  Victory,  in  the  Museum  of  Antiquities,  an 
Annunciation  in  S.  Alessandro  (note  the  fine  warmth 
of  the  gold  ground)  attributed  to  Fra  Angelico  but 
given  by  Berenson  to  Jacopo  Bellini;  and  a  too  cele- 
brated work  by  Titian  in  SS.  Nazzaro  e  Celso.  The 
main  panel  of  the  last  contains  a  Resurrection  which, 
in  its  type  of  Christ,  is  most  unpleasing.  The  St. 
Sebastian,  at  the  right,  is  a  study  of  the  nude  in  which 
the  artist  deemed  himself  to  have  done  wondrously. 
Titian's  sympathetic   feeling   for   landscape  is  well 


Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua  69 


evidenced  in  the  daybreak  of  the  Resurrection  morn. 
It  is  the  best  part  of  the  picture.  This  altarpiece, 
painted  in  1522,  is  far  inferior  to  the  Ancona  picture 
of  1520  and  the  Vatican  Madonna  and  Saints  of  1523. 

Two  days  later,  after  an  early  lunch,  the  Fiat  re- 
sumed its  trip  and  forged  swiftly  out  on  the  road  to 
Verona.  After  five  miles,  at  Ponte,  we  turned  north- 
east, passing  several  limestone  quarries  on  hills  as 
rocky  as  any  in  Mantegna's  landscapes.  Twenty 
miles  brought  us  to  Salo,  on  the  Lago  di  Garda,  perhaps 
the  most  beautiful  of  Italian  lakes.  Can  we  ever  forget 
the  view  as  we  came  down  toward  the  lake?  Salo's 
parish  church  contains  an  Adoration  of  the  Christ-Child, 
by  Torbido,  an  interesting  work  in  a  bad  state  of 
preservation.  In  it  the  combined  influence  of  Gior- 
gione  and  Palma  is  very  evident.  The  church  of  San 
Bernardino  contains  a  good  work  by  Romanino,  re- 
presenting San  Bonaventura.  It  is  of  1529  and  there- 
fore a  work  of  his  prime.  Behind  the  high  altar  is  a 
large  picture  showing  the  Virgin  on  clouds  with  saints 
below.  It  is  interesting  for  its  mixture  of  the  styles 
of  Moretto  and  Savoldo.  It  may  possibly  be  an  early 
work  by  the  latter. 

From  Salo  we  went  up  over  the  hills  and  down  again 
to  Desenzano  and  Peschiera.  The  views  of  lake  and 
mountain  were  magnificent.  How  much  the  traveller 
by  rail  misses  by  not  being  able  to  look  down  from  the 
heights!  Peschiera,  at  the  outlet  of  the  lake,  keeps 
guard  from  within  its  massive  fortifications,  whose 


70       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

moat  the  blue,  blue  Mincio  fills  with  the  clearest  of 
water.  From  Peschiera  to  Verona  lies  one  of  the  best 
stretches  of  road  in  Italy,  the  last  twenty  kilometres 
being  all  at  a  slight  down-grade.  How  we  flew!  A 
race  with  a  motor-cyclist  enlivened  the  journey. 
After  we  passed  the  poor  chap  he  must  have  had  dust 
to  repletion.  During  one  burst  of  speed  we  ran  into  a 
bat,  which  dropped,  half  stunned.  When  it  recovered 
a  bit,  it  began  to  climb  up  Bertoni's  leg.  The  poor 
fellow  almost  had  a  fit  and  wondered  at  our  bravery  in 
daring  to  pluck  it  off  him.  Dinner  time  found  us 
drawing  up  before  the  Hotel  de  Londres,  in  Verona,  glad 
to  get  letters  from  home  and  others  from  friends  who 
were  to  join  us  in  Venice. 

Probably  twenty  tourists  go  to  Naples  and  Genoa 
and  fail  to  go  to  Verona,  Padua,  Siena,  and  Assisi,  to 
one  who  does  the  reverse,  and  yet,  in  the  matter  of 
interest,  the  second  group  of  towns  is  incomparably 
superior  to  the  first.  Verona  is  a  mine  of  interest. 
Her  many  splendid  old  churches  have  been  filled  with 
art  treasures  by  her  gifted  sons.  From  Pisanello  to 
the  great  Paolo  is  over  two  hundred  years — and  the 
interim  gives  us  the  names  of  Domenico  and  Francesco 
Morone,  Liberale,  Girolamo  dai  Libri,  Caroto,  Giolfino, 
Cavazzola,  Brusasorci,  Bonifazio,  a  colourist  of  the 
first  rank,  and  Bonsignori,  a  truly  great  painter.  These 
are  all  later  than  the  period  that  saw  Dante  the  guest 
of  the  powerful  Scaligers,  or  gave  birth  to  a  Juliet. 
Further  back,  Verona's  history  leads  us  past  cruel 


i 


Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua  71 

Ezzolino,  past  Pepin  and  Theodoric,  to  the  rule  of 
Rome.  Before  the  great  Julius,  Verona  was  a  Roman 
colony.  To-day  the  third  century  amphitheatre  bears 
witness  to  her  early  importance.  The  Porta  dei 
Borsari,  a  three-storied  gateway  that  spans  the  corso 
of  that  name,  is  of  nearly  the  same  date.  To-day's 
market-place  spreads  its  wares  on  the  spot  where  Rome 


THE  MARKET-PLACE,  VERONA. 


built  her  forum.  The  frescoed  walls  of  Liberale  look 
down  upon  Berengarius'  fountain,  on  the  columned 
lion  that  bears  witness  to  the  sometime  supremacy  of 
Venice  and  the  armies  of  St.  Mark,  and  upon  the  noisy 
chatter  of  the  modern  mart.  Such  is  Verona— and 
such,  for  that  matter,  is  Italy.  How  great  the  joy  of  a 
right  appreciation  of  all  that  she  would  say  to  us! 
The  antithesis  of  their  new-born  country,  Italy  appeals 


72       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

to  Americans  with  a  peculiar  emphasis.  Verona  drives 
the  appeal  home. 

From  the  hotel  we  crossed  the  Adige  to  S.  Giorgio, 
where,  in  admiring  Veronese's  Martyrdom  of  St.  George, 


STATUE  OF  ST.  PETER,  VERONA. 


we  must  not  overlook  Tintoretto's  Baptism.,  a  work  that 
has  been  unduly  neglected  by  art  critics.  The  St. 
George  is  a  masterly  decorative  work,  full  of  the  faulty 
spirit  of  the  age  in  which  it  was  produced.    In  spite  of 


Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua  73 


this  we  must  applaud  a  picture  that  is  so  close  to  the 
top  of  its  own  class.  The  near-by  church  of  Santo 
Stefano  is  interesting,  its  very  early  date  lending 
strength  to  its  architecture.  The  crypt  contains  a 
statue  of  St.  Peter,  interesting,  in  its  archaicness,  with 
a  quality  that  appeals  to  a  developed  taste. 

A  walk  along  the  river-front,  under  the  hill  from 
which  Theodoric's  palace  once  frowned  down  upon 
the  town,  brings  us  to  Santa  Maria  in  Organo.  We 
first  go  into  the  sacristy,  one  of  the  most  interesting 
rooms  left  to  us  by  the  Renaissance.  The  fine  in- 
tarsias  of  Fra  Giovanni  of  Verona,  together  with  the 
wall  and  ceiling  decoration,  wonderfully  soft  in  colour, 
by  Francesco  Morone,  obtain  added  effect  from  the 
admirable  proportions  of  the  place.  The  ceiling  has 
the  sheen  that  one  sees  on  an  old  rug.  The  Madonna 
and  Saints  here,  attributed  to  Girolamo  dai  Libri,  is 
certainly  by  Mocetto.  The  church  proper  contains 
several  pictures  of  importance.  A  Saint  Michael,  by 
Cavazzola,  is  particularly  fine.  The  neighbouring  church 
of  SS.  Nazzaro  e  Celso  holds  some  of  Montagna's  best 
works,  works  which  bespeak  a  great  man.  Strength  is 
combined  with  a  poise  before  which  art-chatter  is 
silent.  His  drapery  is  a  tonic  for  the  eye.  The  chapel 
of  St.  Blaise  must  once  have  been  exceedingly  fine. 
It  is  interesting  to  note  the  strong  influence  of  Man- 
tegna  in  the  Four  Evangelists  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
chapel,  a  signed  work  by  Falconetto.  The  church  of 
San  Paolo  boasts  a  good  Bonsignori  and  a  high-altar- 


74       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

piece  by  Caroto,  the  latter  splendid  in  all  but  the 
disproportion  between  the  Madonna  and  the  saints. 

Crossing  the  river  once  more,  San  Fermo  gives  us 
one  of  the  best  things  in  Verona,  the  Pisanello  Annun- 
ciation. The  beauty  of  the  Gabriel,  even  in  its  ruined 
state,  is  wonderful.  The  breadth  of  the  handling 
evidences  the  versatility  of  a  master  who  has  left  us 
paintings  unsurpassed  as  miniatures. 

To  vary  our  sightseeing  we  took  a  flying  side-trip  to 
Mantua, — gate  to  gate,  forty  and  one  half  kilometres, 
which  we  made  in  forty-four  minutes,  good  time,  con- 
sidering the  number  of  carts  and  the  strong  head-wind. 
An  excellent  idea  of  Mantua,  its  Gonzagas  and  the  life 
of  their  court  in  its  palmy  days,  is  given  in  Julia  Cart- 
wright's  book  on  Isabella  d'  Este,  famous  patroness  of 
the  arts,  who  came,  a  bride,  from  Ferrara  to  Mantua. 

Mantegna's  frescoes  of  the  Gonzaga  family,  in  the 
old  Gonzaga  castle,  the  Castello  di  Corte,  are  Mantua's 
most  important  works  of  art.  Though  much  restored, 
they  are  yet  of  great  interest,  and,  on  account  of  the 
many  portraits  they  contain,  of  historic  importance. 
Mantegna's  salient  characteristic  is  his  virility,  which 
gives  him  at  times  a  tendency  to  dryness.  Learning 
his  art  in  Padua,  in  the  school  of  Squarcione,  excelling 
by  far  all  of  his  fellow-pupils  except  young  Niccolo 
Pizzolo,  whose  possible  rivalry  an  early  death  obviated, 
Mantegna  broadened  his  artistic  affiliations  by  taking  in 
marriage  the  sister  of  the  brothers  Bellini.  Un- 
doubtedly he  was  early  influenced  by  Jacopo,  his 


Alinari  photo.  S.  Fermo,  Verona. 

PISANELLO  "GABRIEL." 


75 


Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua  77 

father-in-law,  as  may  be  seen  in  his  picture  in  the 
National  Gallery  {Christ  in  Gethsemane)  which  follows 
closely  a  design  of  Jacopo's.  When  he  was  thirty-five, 
Mantegna  settled  in  Mantua,  urged  thereto  by  Lodovico 
Gonzaga,  and  spent  practically  the  rest  of  his  life  there. 
It  is  our  misfortune  that  much  of  his  decorative  work 
done  for  Lodovico  has  perished,  due,  perhaps,  to  the 
dampness  of  Mantua's  marshy  situation. 

The  Reggta,  a  palace  near  the  Castello,  is  bare  and 
gloomy  and  possesses  little  of  interest.  The  church  of 
S.  Andrea,  whose  interior  is  doubly  spacious  through 
the  absence  of  aisles,  contains  the  tomb  of  Mantegna. 
The  Baptism  here,  attributed  to  Mantegna's  school,  is 
a  good  work,  the  figure  of  John  being  especially  fine. 

A  bit  outside  the  town  is  the  Palazzo  de  Te, 
designed  and  in  great  part  decorated  by  Giulio  Romano. 
The  architecture,  whatever  admirable  qualities  it  may 
possess,  is  altogether  unsympathetic  and  Giulio's 
frescoes  may,  for  the  most  part,  be  placed  in  the  same 
category.  Primaticcio's  work  in  stucco  is  good.  Taken 
altogether,  we  liked  the  place  less  than  on  a  previous 
visit,  a  fact  that  convinces  us  that  its  art  is  bad. 

Before  leaving  Verona  we  had  had  it  in  mind  to  return 
from  Mantua  by  way  of  Peschiera,  in  order  to  take  a 
whirl  again  on  the  splendid  road  from  there  to  Verona. 
We  accordingly  went  north-west  from  Mantua.  Just 
before  reaching  the  bridge  of  Goito  (made  celebrated 
by  a  fierce  battle  in  the  war  for  Italian  independence) 
a  carter,  seeing  us  coming,  jumped  from  his  cart  in 


78       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

fear  and  grabbed  at  his  horse's  head.  The  horse  had 
not  even  seen  us,  but  the  master  kicked  up  such  a  fuss 
that  the  poor  animal  did  n't  know  what  was  up,  so 
turned  and  bolted.  We  caught  him  at  the  bridge. 
As  a  memento  of  the  occasion,  one  of  the  youngest 
inhabitants  unwillingly  posed  for  a  snap-shot.  Farther 
on  we  passed  over  part  of  the  battlefield  of  Solferino 

and  then  climbed 
the  hills  to  the 
north,  losing  our 
road  more  than 
once  and  coming 
out  suddenly  upon 
a  wonderful  view 
of  the  Lago  di 
Garda  and  of  the 
mountains  be- 
yond. The  nearer 
hills  were  brilliant 
with  the  foliage  of 
innumerable  syca- 
more trees ;  not 
true  sycamores, 
but  what   we  in 

AT  THE  BRIDGE  OF  GOITO. 

America  call  such. 

We  ran  down  to  Desenzano  and  then  to  Peschiera  and 
bluest  Mincio  once  more.  As  we  were  passing  through 
Peschiera's  eastern  gate  a  "Rochet-Schneider"  car 
sneaked  ahead  of  us  at  a  reckless  pace  and  sped  on  out 


Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua  79 


onto  the  long  white  highway  leading  to  Verona,  raising 
such  a  cloud  of  dust  that  we  had  to  drop  behind  for 
fear  of  running  into  some  dust-hidden  cart.  A  few 
moments  later  the  road  turned  south  and  brought  a 
cross-wind  that  blew  away  the  dust,  and  there,  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  ahead,  was  the  other  car,  just  starting 
on  an  up-grade.  Bertoni  was  n't  slow  in  giving  our 
good  Fiat  her  head,  with  the  result  that  we  passed  our 
friend  just  at  the  top  of  the  grade  and  then  gave  him 
a  good  return  for  his  awful  dust.  Some  three  miles 
beyond  the  Professor  leaned  over  and  shouted  that  he 
had  lost  his  cap ;  so  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  steer 
as  far  to  the  right  as  we  could,  before  stopping,  hoping 
that  our  dust  would  settle  before  the  other  car  came  by. 
Luckily  it  did.  We  found  the  cap  a  half-mile  back 
and  then  hurried  on  again  till  we  caught  sight  of  the 
other  fellow's  dust  just  as  we  neared  Verona.  Bertoni 
left  us  for  the  night,  thoroughly  disgusted  with  the 
Professor. 

Fra  Giocondo's  well-proportioned  Palazzo  del 
Consgilio  was  the  first  object  of  our  next  expedition. 
The  many-coloured  facade  is  lavishly  adorned,  yet 
shows  a  certain  restraint  which  makes  the  general 
effect  far  more  chaste  than  is  the  case  with  Pavia's 
Certosa.  From  the  busy  Piazza  dell'  Erbe  we  took  a 
cab  to  Verona's  finest  church,  San  Zeno.  Situated  on 
a  broad  piazza  and  flanked  by  towers,  the  church  is 
simple  but  imposing.  To  the  right  and  left  of  the  doors 
are  old  panels  in  carved  stone,  with  scenes  from  the 


80       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Old  and  New  Testaments,  quaint,  indeed,  but  far  less  so 
than  the  very  archaic  bronze  plates  with  which  the 


VERONA.      DOOR  OF  SAN  ZENO. 
(Detail.) 


doors  themselves  are  covered.  Notice  the  attitude  of 
Cain,  as  he  belabours  Abel,  and  that  of  Abraham  as  he 


Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua  81 


prepares  to  sacrifice  Isaac!  We  get  here  a  feeling  of 
antiquity  that  makes  Roman  work  look  absolutely 
modern.  It  is  hard  under  such  conditions  to  preserve 
a  correct  sense  of  relationship  with  the  past.  Man- 
tegna's  large  Madonna  and  Saints,  in  the  choir,  is  one 
of  his  principal  works,  dignified  and  severe,  but,  in 
spite  of  the  beauty  of  the  sky,  weak,  where  Mantegna 
is  often  weak,  in  colour.  St.  Peter's  yellow  robe  draws 
the  eye  away  from  the  Virgin  and  Child,  a  fault  we  may 
see  repeated  in  Benaglio's  triptych  in  the  choir  of  San 
Bernardino,  a  picture  with  other  evidences  of  Man- 
tegna's  influence.  San  Zeno  contains  many  early 
Veronese  frescoes.  A  St.  George  and  the  Dragon,  to 
the  right,  near  the  crypt  entrance,  is  excellent,  prob- 
ably contemporary  with  Altichiero's  work  in  Sant' 
Anastasia. 

Francesco  Morone's  great  Crucifixion  and  Domenico 
Morone's  ruined  but  fine  decoration  of  the  fourth 
chapel  to  the  right,  in  the  nave,  are  the  chief  objects 
in  the  church  of  San  Bernardino.  Baedeker  ''stars" 
the  wrong  things  here.  May  his  sins  in  the  creation  of 
a  wrong  idea  of  the  truly  good  be  forgiven  him! 
The  refectory,  adjoining  the  church,  is  interesting. 
S.  Eufemia  should  be  visited  for  its  Caroto,  and  the 
Duomo  for  Falconetto's  decorative  frescoes  and  the 
double-storied  cloisters. 

Our  walk  to  Sant'  Anastasia  gave  us  occasion  to 
notice  the  prevalence  and  beauty  of  Verona's  balconies. 
Coupled  with  the  well-designed  and  varied  door  and 


82       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

window  mouldings,  they  add  much  to  the  attractive- 
ness of  the  place.  In  Sant'  Anastasia  we  again  become 
subject  to  Pisanello's  charm.  Here  he  represents 
St.  George  and  the  Dragon  (and  two  baby  dragons!). 


THE  CLOISTERS,  VERONA  CATHEDRAL. 


Half  gone  though  it  is,  how  charming  is  the  fresco! 
The  fringe  of  Gothic  buildings  that  tops  the  landscape 
is  wonderfully  attractive,  and  the  massive  horses  and 
the  Princess  herself  all  go  to  make  a  most  cherished 


can  grande's  monument — verona. 


S3 


Lovere,  Iseo,  Brescia,  Verona,  Mantua  85 


memory.  Veronese  art  won  its  right  to  be  called 
winsome  even  before  Pisanello's  day — witness  the 
Knights  of  the  Cavalli  Family  before  the  Virgin  in  Sant' 
Anastasia.  Painting  a  hundred  years  before  Columbus, 
Altichiero  here  proves  himself  a  worthy  follower  of 
Giotto. 

I  find  myself  going  far  more  into  detail  than  I  should. 
Verona  is  worthy  of  it,  however.  No  traveller  should 
fail  to  visit  her.  Even  a  visit  made  for  the  sake  of 
Juliet  (whose  "tomb"  we  failed  to  visit)  is  to  be  con- 
doned if  the  visitor  will  but  keep  his  eyes  open  to  the 
real  beauties  of  the  place.  Let  us  hurry  on,  then, 
simply  mentioning  the  picture  gallery  as  a  most  in- 
teresting one,  to  the  Scaliger  Tombs, — fourteenth- 
century  monuments  of  the  proud  and  haughty  "della 
Scala"  family — "of  the  ladder,"  as  they  were  called 
from,  their  armorial  device.  The  high,  Gothic,  shrine- 
like tombs,  open  to  the  air,  are  surrounded  by  an  iron 
lattice  whose  design  embodies  the  ladder.  We  were 
chiefly  interested  in  the  tomb  of  "Can  Grande," — "Big 
Dog," — who  was  Dante's  host  when  the  poet  was  in  exile. 
Later,  Dante  journeyed  on  to  Ravenna,  having  found 
his  host  all  too  truly  named.  High  up  above  his 
sarcophagus  and  his  own  recumbent  effigy,  Can  sits  in 
warlike  pride,  sword  in  hand,  astride  his  war-horse, 
who,  like  his  rider,  looks  toward  us,  his  panoply 
majestically  swaying  in  the  breeze.  We  bade  horse, 
rider,  and  Verona  farewell  at  almost  the  same  time, 
running  eastward  through  a  countryside  rich  with  the 


86       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

hues  of  autumn.  Grape-vines  of  red  and  yellow  swung 
in  graceful  garlands  from  tree  to  tree.  We  passed 
Soave,  with  its  picturesque  castle,  joined  to  the  town 
by  a  long  wall.  Farther  on,  to  the  left,  a  high  marble 
campanile,  slender  as  a  minaret,  pointed  its  shaft 
upward.  Then,  before  long,  came  Vicenza,  with  Monte 
Berico  standing  guard  over  her.  The  end  of  our  hour's 
run,  some  fifty  kilometres,  brought  us  to  the  Hotel 
Roma,  where  all  did  their  best  to  make  us  comfortable. 
The  following  notice,  neatly  framed,  adorned  the  wall 
of  our  room:  "We  observe  that  when  the  stove  is 
'eated,  the  prince  of  the  room  is  dayly  and  personally 
augmented  by  75  cents."  Observe,  please,  the  sur- 
render to  British  prejudice  contained  in  the  "smooth 
breathing.'' 


CHAPTER  IV. 


VICENZA,  CASTELFRANCO,  BASSANO,  UDINE,  SAN 


DANIELE. 


ICENZA  boasts  one  great  painter,  Bartolommeo 


Montagna.    A  pupil  at  Venice  of  Alvise  Vivarini, 


he  became  one  o  the  foremost  exemplars  of  the 
group  that  had  John  Bellini  and  his  pupils  as  rivals. 
Montagna's  great  altarpiece  in  the  Vicenza  gallery,  with 
the  Virgin  and  Child  sitting  enthroned  in  the  open,  un- 
der a  towering  canopy,  is  perhaps  his  finest  picture. 
Majestic  with  all  the  majesty  of  the  early  Ferrarese,  of 
Tura  and  Cossa,  it  yet  has  far  less  severity  and  pre- 
serves a  dignity  that  is  all  its  own. 

Vicenza's  church  of  Santa  Corona  holds  two  fine 
pictures, — the  Magdalen  and  four  other  saints,  a  dull, 
sober-coloured,  but  stately  work  by  Montagna,  and 
Giovanni  Bellini's  Baptism,  painted  when  the  artist 
was  over  eighty.  We  see  here  no  sign  of  weakening 
power.  Though  the  type  of  the  Christ  is  not  inspiring 
(what  type  is?)  the  picture  is  impressive,  attractive. 
What  a  noble  landscape  does  it  show  us;  —  a  level 
valley,  backed  by  towering  hills,  whose  deep  brown 
changes  to  blue-green  as  the  distance  lengthens,  the 
gold-tipped  sky  above  gradually  turning  to  blue  as  we 


87 


88       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

reach  the  vault  of  heaven,  where  God  the  Father  floats 
amid  angels. 

Beside  Montagna,  Vicenza  counts  Palladio  among 
her  sons,  a  builder  who  gave  his  name  to  a  distinct 
variety  of  architecture.  Vicenza's  so-called  Basilica 
is  his  work,  a  much  vaunted  building  with  a  two-storied 
colonnade.  Seen  from  a  distance,  the  swelling  roof 
and  high,  slender  tower  form  a  pleasing  contrast. 
Outside  the  town  may  be  seen  the  Rotonda,  Pal- 
lad  io's  villa,  well  known  to  students  of  architecture. 
Though  excellent  of  its  kind,  it  produces  the  same 
impression  as  an  academic  picture,  being  an  eclectic 
combination  of  qualities,  separately  good,  into  a  spirit- 
less whole. 

Morelli  proclaims  Palma's  fine  picture  in  Santo 
Stefano  as  his  greatest  work.  Palma  treated  his 
Madonna-pictures  almost  invariably  in  the  spirit  of  a 
Giorgionesque  idyll.  He  painted  innumerable  con- 
versazioni, where  the  Virgin  and  Child,  with  various 
saints  in  attendance,  sit  comfortably  in  a  landscape, 
of  which  they  form  a  natural  part.  There  is  no  at- 
tempt to  make  the  central  figures  dominate.  Rarely 
indeed  does  Palma  build  up  his  picture  along  the  older 
lines,  with  the  enthroned  Madonna  raised  above  her 
worshippers.  Perhaps  his  harking  back  to  the  older, 
more  dignified  form,  as  in  Santo  Stefano,  gives  this 
picture  a  preference  over  other  works.  The  landscape 
here  is  fine.  Giorgione,  Titian,  Palma,  and  Lotto,  in 
fact  most  of  the  later  Venetians,  excel  in  their  poetic 


Anderson  photo.  Vicenza,  S.  Corona. 

GIOVANNI  BELLINI  "  BAPTISM  OF  CHRIST." 


89 


Vicenza,  Castelfranco,  Bassano  91 


treatment  of  landscape  as  surely  as  do  the  Umbrians 
in  spatial  treatment. 

Our  afternoon  was  filled  by  a  pilgrimage  up  Monte 
Berico  to  the  church  of  the  ''Madonna  of  the  Mount," 


Alinari  photo.  Monte  Berico,  Vicenza. 

MONTAGNA  "PIETA." 

to  see  Montagna's  splendid  Pieta,  a  very  great  picture, 
in  spite  of  Peter's  theatric  posture.  Mary,  John,  and 
the  Magdalen  make  their  sorrow  real  to  us.  What  a  dif- 
ference in  the  manner  of  conceiving  a  religious  subject 


92       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


does  Paul  Veronese  give  in  his  sumptuous  Banquet 
of  Gregory  in  the  adjoining  refectory! — a  picture  re- 
markable for  its  fine  composition.  Veronese's  disciple 
Tiepolo,  calls  us  to  the  Villa  Valmarana,  to  the  east- 
ward, where  his 
frescoed  tales  from 
heroic  story  give 
proof  of  his  mar- 
vellous decorative 
facility.  Our  walk 
thither  is  a  pleas- 
ure, full  of  ex- 
panding views. 
Vicenza  lies  at  our 
feet,  with  the  Alps 
rising  hazily  be- 
yond, while  south 
and  east  stretches 
a  plain  that  ends 
in  Padua  and  Pe- 
trarch's Euganean 
Hills.  On  a  very 
clear  day  one  may 
see  low-lying  Venice,  though  her  campanile  landmark 
be  gone  for  the  time.  We  returned  to  Vicenza  by 
another  route  along  a  canal  over  which  Palladio's 
basilica  rose  in  the  distance. 

We  had  a  splendid  day  for  the  trip  from  Vicenza  to 
Bassano,  the  road  running  through  the  flat  country  at 


Vicenza,  Castelfranco,  Bassano  95 


the  base  of  the  mountains.  We  passed  beneath  almost 
continuous  rows  of  spreading  plane  trees.  Innu- 
merable carts  were  journeying,  drawn  by  ridiculously 
small  donkeys,  the  flatness  of  the  district,  with  its  lack 
of  grades,  being  especially  favourable  to  this  pigmy 
breed.  More  than  once  a  carter  lifted  his  donkey 
bodily  when  he  heard  the  sound  of  our  horn.    I  suppose 


A  FARMHOUSE  NEAR  VICENZA. 


these  pocket  editions  are  growing  smaller  with  time 
through  the  weeding  out  of  all  the  larger  specimens  for 
use  in  the  hills.  Many  of  the  farmhouses,  vine-clad, 
stood  picturesquely  behind  high,  tangled  hedges.  We 
passed  a  flock  of  sheep  with  many  a  toddling  lambkin 
sidling  along  by  its  mother.  A  donkey  in  attendance 
carried  two  baby  lambs,  born  on  the  road  the  night 
before,  whose  heads  emerged  cunningly  from  the  bags 
of  fodder. 


g6       Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Soon  we  came  to  Cittadella,  with  its  old  wall. 
Instead  of  going  north,  to  Bassano,  we  kept  straight 
on,  toward  that  art-lovers'  pilgrimage-shrine,  Castel- 
franco,  dowered  by  Giorgione  with  a  great  picture.-  I 
know  of  no  work  more  impressive.  For  a  full  enjoy- 
ment of  it  one  must  have  undergone  a  long  course  of 
sympathetic  study  of  Italian  art.  To  the  uninitiated, 
the  Sistine  Madonna  will  appeal  far  more  forcibly. 


BABY  LAMBS  AND  DONKEY,  NEAR  CITTADELLA. 

But  here  we  have  no  simpering  Barbara  to  detract  from 
the  calm  majesty  of  the  brooding  Virgin.  Just  suffi- 
cient is  the  restraint  due  to  the  painter's  striving.  His 
inspiration  balances  his  skill  and  the  poise  gives  birth 
to  a  great  work.  When  the  skill  is  all-sufficient  to  the 
idea,  and  a  bit  more  than  sufficient,  a  fatal  facility 
results  and  we  have  a  Guido  Reni.  Set  Guido 
back  to  the  striving  era  of  the  quattrocento  and  you 


Alinari  photo.  Castclfranco. 
GIORGIONE  MADONNA. 


97 


Vicenza,  Castelfranco,  Bassano  99 


get  a  great  artist.  Facility  is  every  day  detracting 
from.  Raphael's  greatness.  The  man  in  whose  pictures 
we  see  the  toil  and  sweat  of  effort  striving  at  expression 
gives  us  works  that  endure. 

A  narrow  but  good  road  took  us  north  from  Castel- 
franco to  Asolo,  finely  situated  among  the  hills. 
Lorenzo  Lotto  here  shows  us,  in  his  earliest  dated  work 
(1506),  how  sweet  to  him  was  the  beauty  of  God's 


THE  OLD  BRIDGE  BASSANO. 


creation.  The  town-topped  hill,  the  valley,  and  the 
spreading  stream  are  pencilled  with  an  art  that  sim- 
plifies while  it  ennobles. 

Bassano,  with  the  Brenta,  the  old  bridge,  and  the 
mountains,  formed  a  fine  picture  as  we  sped  into  it  at 
the  end  of  our  afternoon's  ride,  a  ride  whose  main 
memory  lies  in  the  gorgeous  Virginia  Creeper  that 
clothed  trees  and  buildings  in  mantling  scarlet.  The 


ioo      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

glory  of  our  American  foliage  is  seldom  equalled  by 
anything  in  Europe,  but  northern  Italy  has  a  glory 
of  its  own.  Its  combination  of  the  picturesque,  part 
God-made,  part  man-made,  is  difficult  to  rival.  * 

Bassano  is  chiefly  interesting  as  the  home  of  the  Da 
Ponte  family  of  painters — two  Francescos,  Jacopo  (the 
greatest),  and  Leandro,  familiarly  known  as  "  Jacopo 
Bassano,"  etc.  The  Museum  contains  works  by  all  of 
the  family,  showing  an  interesting  sequence  of  develop- 
ment. Jacopo  Bassano  suffers  in  general  estimation 
through  the  number  of  inferior  works  attributed  to 
him.  His  open-air  genre  pictures  obtained  great 
vogue  and,  in  consequence,  his  assistants  and  imitators 
produced  hundreds  of  pictures  which  to-day,  in  gallery 
catalogues,  pass  under  the  master's  name.  His  finest 
work,  a  Banquet  of  Dives,  has  recently  come  to  America. 

In  Bassano,  as  elsewhere  in  northern  Italy,  the  sur- 
name precedes  the  Christian  name  on  signs,  letters,  etc. 
The  most  interesting  case  of  the  kind  came  later,  in 
Bologna,  where  the  programme  of  Puccini's  Madame 
Butterfly,  in  transcribing  the  hero's  name,  Benjamin 
Franklin  Pinkerton,  had  it  "  Pinkerton,  F.  B."  We 
must  not  leave  Bassano  without  calling  attention  to 
its  wonderful  apples,  a  rarity  in  Europe. 

An  early  start  for  a  very  long  day  brought  us  betimes 
to  Maser,  where  the  Villa  Giacomelli,  with  Paul  Ver- 
onese's frescoes,  was  opened  to  us  on  presentation  of 
our  cards.  The  frescoes  are  interesting,  more  for  the 
broadly  decorative  effect  than  as  works  of  individual 


Vicenza,  Castelfranco,  Bassano  101 

excellence.  The  Villa  boasted  a  garage  with  a  DeDion 
car  which  Bertoni  said  could  "go  fast  down  a  hill — 
but  what  a  noise!"  Passing  on  through  Cornuda  and 
crossing  the  road  that  leads  north  to  Belluno,  Pieve  di 
Cadore  (Titian's  birthplace),  and  the  Dolomites, — a 
side-trip  with  scenery  excelled  nowhere  in  the  Alps, — 
we  turned  south-east  to  the  long  bridge  over  the  Piave, 
which,  almost  dry  in  the  autumn,  in  the  spring  becomes 
a  wide-spreading  torrent.  Here  we  joined  the  main 
road  from  Venice  to  Udine.  Conegliano,  whose  cham- 
pagne has  a  national  reputation,  soon  appeared,  busy 
with  its  market  day.  The  badly-placed  cathedral 
contains  an  important  altarpiece  by  Cima,  who  was 
born  here.  A  northward  run  of  ten  miles  brought  us 
to  Serravalle,  with  its  old  walls  and  remarkable  geologi- 
cal formations.  A  small  peak  that  raises  itself  in  the 
midst  of  the  town  looks,  with  its  serrated  ridge,  like  a 
Dolomite  in  captivity.  Serravalle  possesses  a  fine 
Titian — a  Virgin  in  glory,  surrounded  by  angels,  with 
Andrew  and  Peter  below.  The  work  is  reminiscent  of 
the  Vatican  picture  painted  twenty-four  years  earlier. 
The  attention  of  the  government  should  be  called  to  the 
necessity  of  taking  better  care  of  the  picture,  which, 
perhaps  on  account  of  its  out-of-the-way  situation,  has 
been  allowed  to  fall  into  poor  condition. 

Ceneda,  just  south  of  Serravalle,  with  which  it  now 
forms  one  municipality,  has  frescoes  by  Pordenone 
which  contain  some  attractive  heads.  They  are  on 
the  facade  of  the  colonnaded   municipio.  Turning 


102      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

south  again  as  far  as  San  Giacomo,  we  reach  the  main 
road  once  more  by  a  branch  to  the  south-east.  Twenty 
miles  in  twenty-five  minutes  over  a  splendid  straight 
stretch  through  a  Holland-like  district,  and  we  come 
to  Pordenone,  with  its  fine  campanile  and  pretty  girls. 
Giovanni  Antonio  Licinio,  better  known  as  Pordenone, 
was  born  here,  and  the  church  and  gallery  contain  works 
by  him.    Distinctly  a  robust  painter,  he  appealed  to 


UDINE  THE  MUNICIPIO. 


the  Venetian  taste  and  became  a  rival  of  the  far  subtler 
Titian.  Some  of  his  coarser  works  we  have  met  at 
Piacenza.  His  best  work  at  Pordenone  is  in  the 
Duomo,  on  the  first  altar  to  the  right, — a  Holy  Family 
with  St.  Christopher  and  donors.  The  colour  is  fine  and 
warm,  the  types  good,  and  the  landscape,  with  its  castle 
and  hills,  very  attractive.  Casarsa,  ten  miles  farther  on, 
contains  a  most  remarkably  modernised  Virgin  and 


Udine,  San  Daniele  103 

Child  (in  the  church,  second  altar  to  the  left)  which 
may  have  been  originally  by  Pordenone.  The  old 
baptistery  has  ruined  frescoes  by  the  same  artist. 
Leaving  Casarsa,  we  cross  the  broad,  dry  bed  of  the 
Tagliamento,  beyond  which  a  straight  stretch  of  twenty 
miles,  with  the  road  dipping  over  the  horizon,  brings 
us  to  Udine,  in  time  for  a  walk  before  dinner. 


CIVIDALE. 


Udine  is  an  ancient  place,  chief  town  of  the  district 
of  Friuli.  A  column  with  St.  Mark's  lion  tells  us  that 
Venice  ruled  here.  The  sixteenth-century  castle  looks 
down  on  the  town  from  the  hill  which  unbelievable 
tradition  asserts  was  thrown  up  by  the  soldiers  of 
Attila,  to  the  end  that  their  leader  might  view  the  burn- 
ing of  ancient  Aquileia,  which  lay  to  the  south. 

Udine's  sights  are  interesting  but  do  not  require  a 


104      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

great  deal  of  time.  The  municipio,  a  restored  building, 
whose  marble  bands  carry  one's  thoughts  to  Lucca 
and  Siena,  is  graceful  and  well-proportioned.  The 
cathedral  has  one  fine  doorway,  but  contains  nothing 
of  interest.  In  the  church  of  the  Purita  is  an  Assump- 
tion, by  Tiepolo,  who  here  exhibits  his  quality  as  a 
decorator  in  a  manner  scarcely  excelled  by  his  Carmine 


CIVIDALE  CHAPEL  OF  ST.  PELTRUDIS. 


frescoes  in  Venice.  Looked  upon  as  pure  decoration, 
it  is  admirable.  The  younger  Tiepolo,  Domenico,  also 
worked  in  Udine.  His  frescoes  in  the  Palace  of  the 
Archbishop  are  ambitious  and,  as  decoration,  really 
good.  Giovanni  da  Udine's  rather  uninteresting  ara- 
besques, in  another  room,  are  similar  to  his  work  in 
the  Villa  Madama,  Rome.  Udine's  policemen  must 
be  mentioned  for  the  oddity  of  their  dress, — high  hats, 


Udine,  San  Daniele  105 

canes,  and  long  coats  reaching  their  shoe-tops, — a 
costume  truly  ridiculous. 

Cividale,  the  ancient  Forum  Julii  (hence  "Friuli"), 
lies  ten  miles  to  the  east  of  Udine.  It  is  well  worth  a 
visit.  The  Natisone,  which  flows  through  the  town, 
affords  many  picturesque  bits  with  its  clear  water  and 
high  rocky  banks.  The  chapel  of  St.  Peltrudis  proved 
a  most  difficult  thing  to  find.  A  long  conversation 
through  an  eye-hole  in  the  door  of  the  Ursuline  Con- 
vent, to  which  no  man  is  ever  admitted,  did  not  aid  us 
much.  We  finally  found  the  custode  in  the  person  of  a 
carpenter,  who  left  his  bench  and  did  the  honours  of 
the  old  eighth-century  chapel  in  a  fine  manner.  The 
figures  of  saints,  in  relief,  high  up  on  the  wall,  are 
of  great  interest,  both  historically  and  aesthetically. 
Pellegrino's  Madonna,  in  S.  Maria  de'  Battuti,  is  a  fine 
work,  reminiscent  of  Palma  and  Lotto,  and,  in  colour, 
of  Romanino.  The  cathedral  is  more  beautiful  than 
one  would  expect  of  so  small  a  town.  The  old  font 
and  the  canopy  over  the  high-altar  are  noticeably 
interesting. 

The  Fiat  drew  a  crowd  in  short  order,  who  raised 
a  cheer  as  we  started  back  to  Udine.  The  sun  had 
driven  away  the  mist  so  that  our  return  journey  gave 
us  fine  views  of  the  mountains  to  the  north.  Into 
Udine  and  out  again  by  the  north  gate,  we  speed  on 
to  Gemona,  a  town  wonderfully  situated  among  mas- 
sive hills  that  rise  sheer  from  the  flat  bed  of  the  Taglia- 
mento.    The  church  of  S.  Maria,  at  the  top  of  the 


1 66      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

town,  contains  interesting  pictures.  In  the  first  chapel 
to  the  left  is  a  Virgin  on  the  Knees  of  St.  Anne,  dated 
1505.  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  the  author 
of  this  fine  work. 

From  Gemona  we  ran  north  to  Ospedalleto,  where 
we  crossed  the  river  and  turned  south  by  a  good  road 
to  San  Daniele.    A  stiff  bit  of  hill  was  at  the  end  of  it. 


GEMONA. 


While  we  lunched  at  the  Italia,  enjoying  some  of  the 
ham  for  which  San  Daniele  is  celebrated,  we  sent  for 
the  custodian  of  the  cathedral,  who  later  showed  us 
through  that  uninteresting  building,  through  two 
other  churches,  and  the  old  Gothic  San  Antonio,  which 
Pellegrino,  a  native  of  San  Daniele,  filled  with  frescoes. 
The  Adoration  of  the  Christ-Child,  Tobias  and  Raphael, 
Christ  Washing  Peter's  Feet,  and  a  St.  Liber  ale  are 
especially  fine.    Pellegrino  must  surely  have  had  the 


Udine,  San  Daniele  107 

assistance  of  Pordenone  in  these  works;  in  fact,  some 
of  them,  notably  the  Washing  of  the  Feet,  seem  to  be 
more  Pordenone 's  than  Pellegrino's. 

We  had  to  leave  San  Daniele  sooner  than  we  wished 
for  our  destination  was  Treviso,  a  good  distance  away. 
Twenty-five  kilometres  brought  us  back  to  the  Udine- 
Conegliano  road,  and,  once  on  it,  we  fairly  flew,  slowing 
up  only,  as  always,  for  carts.  We  passed  Casarsa,  Por- 
denone, and  Conegliano  and  drew  up  at  the  Stella  d' 
Oro,  in  Treviso,  at  half-past  five,  having  made  the  last 
hundred  and  five  kilometres  in  one  hundred  and  five 
minutes,  pretty  good  time  when  one  considers  the 
geese,  the  carts,  and  the  number  of  towns  through 
which  we  passed.  One  incident  that  delayed  us 
showed  Bertoni's  quick  temper  and  strength  of  arm. 
We  were  slowly  passing  a  dog-cart  when  the  gay  young 
man  who  was  driving  slashed  his  whip  into  the  faces 
of  those  in  the  tonneau.  The  Professor  and  I  were 
out  in  an  instant  and  had  grabbed  one  end  of  the  whip 
with  forcible  style  and  appropriate  language.  Just 
then  Bertoni  arrived  on  the  scene.  With  one  wrench 
he  had  taken  the  whip  away  from  the  three  of  us  and 
stalked  back  to  the  car.  It  was  all  aboard  and  away 
again,  whip  proudly  waving.  The  Stella  d'  Oro  and 
other  Treviso  hotels  were  completely  filled  with  men 
in  attendance  at  a  great  race-meet,  so  after  dinner 
we  lighted  up  and  went  through  the  dark  to  Mestre 
and  thence  by  train,  across  the  lagoon,  to  Venice, 
Bertoni  taking  the  car  to  Padua  for  a  good  rest.  As 


io8     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

to  Treviso,  we  had  to  be  satisfied  with  our  visit  of  the 
previous  year,  when  Titian,  Lotto,  Pordenone,  and  the 
author  of  the  puzzling  Pietd  in  the  old  pawn  office , 
had  given  us  many  moments  of  enjoyment. 


CHAPTER  V. 


VENICE,    PADUA,  FERRARA. 


EN  ICE,  heiress  to  the  acme  of  the  Renaissance 


feeling  for  beauty,  gateway  through  which  the 


East  poured  her  wares,  barbaric  in  her  lust  for 
richness  of  colour,  floods  the  eye  of  the  visitor  of  to-day 
with  a  brown-gold  radiance,  whose  influence  upon  the 
senses  is  apt  in  time  to  deaden  one's  appreciation 
of  a  more  archaic  and  refined  art.  The  chief er  sights 
may  be  thoroughly  seen  in  a  week,  but  the  picture- 
lover  who  really  wants  to  see  pictures  will  find  his  stay 
in  Venice  an  indefinite  one.  Numerous  small  churches 
and  scuole  claim  attention  long  after  San  Marco, 
the  Doges'  Palace,  the  Academy,  and  the  larger  churches 
have  been  visited.  For  evening  occupation  Ruskin's 
St.  Mark's  Rest  and  Berenson's  Venetian  Painters 
are  as  enjoyable  as  they  are  instructive.  Berenson's 
lists  of  attributions  are  of  great  aid  to  the  student  of 
Venice,  leading  often  to  pictures  which  would  other- 
wise be  overlooked. 

From  their  water-lapped  entrance  steps  to  their 
lofty  cornices  the  palaces  of  Venice  have  an  attractive- 
ness that  is  all  their  own.    The  charms  of  colour  and 


no     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

form  reflected  and  intensified  in  the  shimmering  waters 
of  the  lagoon  keep  one's  sense  of  the  beautiful  in  an 
active  state.  Going  from  church  to  church  and  from 
picture  to  picture,  enthusiasm  is  keyed  up  to  a  point 
and  kept  there.  The  whole  atmosphere  of  the  place 
makes  sightseeing  enjoyable.  Long  is  the  list  of 
shrines  at  which  we  worshipped.  Titian  we  sought 
at  the  Academy,  the  Frari,  the  Salute,  and  the  Gesuiti. 
Tintoretto  proved  best  in  the  Doges'  Palace,  at  San 
Rocco,  and  San  Giorgio  Maggiore.  Giovanni  Bellini 
holds  his  own  with  the  later  masters  in  the  Academy 
and  in  churches  innumerable.  We  did  not  fail  to 
pay  more  than  one  visit  to  Carpaccio's  winsome  cycle 
in  San  Giorgio  degli  Schiavoni.  S.  Bartolommeo, 
near  the  Rialto,  holds  early  works  of  Sebastiano  del 
Piombo, — among  them  a  St.  Louis  that  is  of  great 
beauty.  Palma  Vecchio  is  the  lion  of  S.  Maria 
Formosa,  with  his  fine  St.  Barbara  altarpiece.  Tiepolo 
is  the  great  decorator  again  in  the  Scuola  del  Carmine 
and  the  Gesuati,  while  the  Quirini-Stampalia  collection 
holds  a  portrait  by  him  that  is  wonderful  and  prac- 
tically unknown,  being  in  a  room  opened  only  by  re- 
quest. It  represents,  in  full  length,  a  procurator,  clad 
in  gorgeous  red.  The  whole  is  fine  but  the  eye  re- 
turns always  to  the  face.  The  church  of  S.  Sebastiano 
is  a  point  of  interest  for  those  to  whom  Paul  Veronese 
appeals,  as  he  is  buried  there,  close  to  several  of  his 
works.  The  Frari  and  SS.  Giovanni  e  Paolo,  with 
their  great  tombs  and  pictures,  are  the  most  attractive 


S.  Bartolommeo,  Venice. 

SEBASTIANO  DEL  PIOMBO  ST.  LOUIS." 

113 


Venice,  Padua,  Ferrara  115 


of  Venetian  churches.  In  front  of  the  latter  rises 
Verocchio's  masterly  equestrian  statue  of  our  friend 
of  Bergamo,  the  great  condottiere,  Bartolommeo 
Colleoni.  Padua,  through  Donatello,  may  boast  a 
finer  work,  but  it  takes  time  and  a  long  tutelage  to 
make  one  admit  it.  Venice's  glass,  lace,  and  mosaic 
factories  are  centres  of  interest  for  the  tourist.  The 
Lido  and  Murano  are  goals  of  pleasant  excursions 
and  more  distant  Torcello  will  amply  repay  a  day's 
time  given  to  it. 

The  lover  of  the  picturesque  may  deplore  the  advent, 
among  Venice's  gondolas,  of  the  steamboats  that  make 
quick  trips  from  end  to  end  of  the  Grand  Canal;  to  the 
ardent  sightseer  they  are  a  welcome  innovation,  per- 
mitting a  great  saving  of  time.  Nothing  is  more 
enjoyable  than  doing  Venice  on  foot,  with  an  occasional 
steamer  to  help  one  take  the  longer  jumps  between 
the  hotel  and  the  district  of  the  day's  excursion.  A 
Venetian  training  is  a  great  thing  for  a  defective  or 
undersized  bump  of  locality,  for  the  byways  are  in- 
numerable. The  Professor,  who  was  perfectly  at  home 
in  Venice,  acted  as  our  guide  one  evening.  Unerringly 
he  went  ahead  while  we  followed  with  thanks  and 
docility.  Across  the  Rialto  we  went  and  then  on  and 
on,  till  suddenly,  to  confound  us,  the  Professor  hur- 
ried around  a  corner  and  was  lost.  He  awaited  us 
at  the  iron  bridge  that  spans  the  Grand  Canal  near 
the  Belle  Arti,  by  which  we  had  planned  to  return. 
Knowing  ourselves  deserted  we  struck  to  the  left, 


n6      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

coming  out  on  the  Grand  Canal  at  one  of  the  traghetti, 
or  ferries.  In  a  moment  we  had  crossed  and  hurried 
back  to  the  hotel,  while  the  Professor  waited  at  the 
bridge.  When  he  finally  came  back  and  found  us 
smoking  in  comfort,  it  was  hard  for  him  to  believe 
our  sworn  statements  that  we  had  crossed  by  the  bridge. 

Venice  introduced  us  to  an  Italian  who  one  day  re- 
marked, "  You  Americans  call  your  little  money  after  a 
bird."  "  You  mean  our  big  money,"  said  I,  "which  we 
call  'eagles.'"  "No,  that  is  not  it,"  said  he.  A 
long  colloquy  resulted  in  the  discovery  that  he  meant 
"  chicken-feed." 

The  old  families  of  Venice  still  try,  with  fortunes 
diminished,  to  keep  up  their  former  state.  One  day, 
as  we  passed  a  palace,  attention  was  called  to  the 
number  of  white-gloved  servants  who  were  assisting 
some  visitors  to  disembark.  Our  gondolier  recognised 
what  we  were  saying  and  interjected — "Yes,  white 
gloves,  always,  but  they  eat  poor." 

We  could  have  spent  twice  our  stay  in  Venice  with 
profit,  but  a  realisation  that  Rome  was  our  Christmas 
destination  started  us  forth  again  at  last  and  one  clear 
morning,  following  several  days  of  rain,  we  took  train 
for  Mestre,  where  we  met  Bertoni,  who  rejoiced  to  be 
again  at  the  helm  of  our  good  ship  Fiat.  Our  number 
had  been  increased  by  two,  which  necessitated  the  use 
of  the  baggage-rack  for  the  grips  that  previously  had 
found  room  in  the  tonneau.  Bertoni  announced  his 
advent  by  a  rousing  wail  from  a  siren,  which  he  had 


Scuola  del  Carmine,  Venice. 
TIEPOLO  DETAIL  OF  CEILING. 


117 


/ 

Venice,  Padua,  Ferrara  119 

procured  in  Padua.  It  proved  a  very  effective  aid  in 
waking  people  who  would  pay  no  attention  whatever 
to  a  horn.    We  were  off  early  and  from  Mestre  headed 


Padua 

GIOTTO  "  SIMEON  IN  THE  TEMPLE." 


north-west,  through  the  mud,  to  a  small  place  called 
Noale,  where  we  had  agreed  to  meet  an  antiquity  man 
from  Venice  for  the  purpose  of  looking  at  a  picture 


120      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

that  was  for  sale.  Our  man  disappointed  us,  however, 
so  we  were  soon  going  south  on  the  road  to  Padua. 

Padua,  a  university  town  with  a  foundation  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  was  once  Italy's  chief  seat  of  learn- 
ing. It  attracts  to-day  some  fifteen  hundred  students. 
The  university  buildings  are  of  no  particular  interest, 
and  as  Padua's  other  sights  called  in  so  many  direc- 
tions, we  passed  them  by.  Chronologically,  Giotto's 
frescoes  in  the  Arena  are  the  earliest  art-works  of 
interest — and  of  such  an  interest!  One  wants  to  sit 
quietly,  quietly,  and  draw  in  to  the  full  the  staid 
beauty  of  the  figures  and  the  majestic  simplicity  of 
the  whole.  Row  on  row,  picture  following  picture, 
we  see  the  whole  New  Testament  spread  out  before  us 
as  a  painted  page.  With  what  loving  care  did  Giotto 
pencil  the  scenes  of  the  story  that  he  knew  so  well! 
Here,  while  he  worked,  came  Dante,  adding,  perhaps  ' 
to  the  painter's  imagery  by  suggestions  coming  from 
his  own  teeming  vision.  Giotto  shows  us  here  the 
Virtues  and  the  Vices,  symbolic  figures  of  which  Ruskin 
loved  to  write.  The  chapel  makes  a  perfect  whole  and 
is  one  of  the  rarest  of  the  rich  legacies  to  which  the 
Renaissance  has  made  us  heirs. 

The  chapel  of  St.  George,  near  the  " Santo,"  brings 
us  forward  seventy  years  with  its  fine  frescoes  of  St. 
George  and  other  saints,  by  Altichiero  and  Avanzo, 
whom  we  met  in  Verona. 

Again  seventy  years  pass  and  Florence,  the  ever- 
favoured,  sends  forth  to  Padua  another  of  her  sons, 


121 


123 


Venice,  Padua,  Ferrara  125 

as  a  new  teacher.  Donatello,  greatest  sculptor  of 
his  time,  gives  to  Padua  to-day  her  noblest  monument. 
Truly,  bronze  was  a  fitting  fabric  in  which  to  draw  the 
deep-lined  visage  of  the  stern  condottiere.  Gatta- 
melata,  general  of  the  Venetians,  sits  on  high,  a  master 
work.  Dignity  is  his,  and  greatest  strength,  and 
herein  Donatello  keeps  the  palm  that  Verocchio's 
Colleoni  strives  to  take  from  him.  To  Donatello,  too, 
goes  credit  as  the  first  to  cast,  since  Roman  times,  a 
horse  and  rider  in  bronze.  We  turn  into  the  many- 
domed  "Santo"  or  church  of  St.  Anthony  of  Padua, 
whose  bones  lie  under  a  much-bedecked  altar,  near 
which  are  marble  reliefs  showing  the  miracles  worked 
by  the  saint.  Those  by  the  Lombardi  and  Sansovino 
are  good,  but  one  forgets  them  as  soon  as  he  passes  to 
the  high-altar,  where  again  we  have  to  wonder  at  the 
strong  craftsmanship  of  Donatello 's  bronze  reliefs. 

Donatello 's  influence  had  a  deal  to  do  with  the  de- 
velopment of  Padua's  greatest  master,  Andrea  Man- 
tegna,  who  came  of  age  as  the  Gattamclata  was  being 
finished.  We  have  seen  in  Mantua  his  works  of  a 
mature  period.  Padua,  in  the  church  of  the  Eremi- 
tani,  shows  us  his  work  done  in  the  freshness  of  youth. 
Here,  in  the  stories  of  Saints  James  and  Christopher, 
his  love  for  the  classical,  aroused  by  his  master,  Squar- 
cione,  is  very  evident.  That  antique  sculptures  served 
as  his  models  is  best  seen  in  his  treatment  of  drapery. 
Mantegna's  greatness  is  unquestioned,  but  he  is  the 
least  sympathetic  of  painters. 


126      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Of  a  riper  time,  too,  has  Padua  works  to  show  us. 
Titian  wields  a  potent  brush  in  the  masterly  ruined  - 
frescoes  of  the  Scuola  del  Santo.  A  wondrous  head 
that,  of  the  mother  whose  virtue  her  babe  proclaims t 
Paul  Veronese  depicts  in  grandiose  manner  the  death 
of  Santa  Giustina  in  the  church  where  rest  the  bones  of 
that  patron  saint  of  Padua.  The  gallery,  too,  contains 
some  fine  works,  with  Romanino's  altarpiece  in  the 


TEN-OX  TEAMS  NEAR  MONSELICE. 


place  of  honour,  due  it,  truly,  as  a  glorified  piece  of 
colour. 

Before  leaving  Padua  one  should  see  the  Palazzo 
della  Ragione,  remarkable  for  the  size  of  its  great 
arched  hall,  less  impressive  to-day  to  eyes  accustomed 
to  the  use  of  structural  steel.  The  Caffe  Pedrocchi, 
famous  in  the  past  as  the  headquarters  of  political 
plotters,  is  near  by.    We  recall  Padua  as  a  remarkably 


Venice,  Padua,  Ferrara  129 

clean  town,  a  strange  fact,  in  view  of  the  primitiveness 
of  the  street-sprinklers — a  barrel  set  on  wheels,  with  a 
piece  of  hose  coming  out  at  the  rear  and  a  small  water- 
ing-pot sprinkler  at  the  end  of  it.  One  man  pulls  the 
cart,  while  another  swings  the  hose  from  side  to  side 
by  means  of  a  string  to  which  it  is  tied.  But  the  results 
speak  for  themselves. 

A  fine  run  of  forty  kilometres  brought  us  to  Rovigo. 
The  Euganean  hills  were  prominent  to  the  right  as  we 
passed  Monselice,  with  its  old  walls  and  high-lying 
castle.  The  grapes  of  the  district,  ripening  late,  were 
still  unpicked.  The  oxen  here  are  not  overworked, 
ten  often  drawing  one  plough.  In  one  field  there 
were  six  ten-ox  teams.  The  ploughs  are  not  heavy 
and  the  furrows  not  very  deep,  so  one  wonders  at  the 
waste  of  effort. 

Rovigo,  the  next  town,  has  an  interesting  gallery 
but  no  pictures  of  particular  importance.  As  it  was 
getting  late  we  did  not  delay  over-much.  From 
Rovigo  to  Ferrara  the  road  was  at  first  good.  As  soon 
as  we  struck  the  Po,  however,  it  became  miserable.  We 
followed  the  bank  of  the  river  for  a  distance,  getting  a 
fine  sunset  effect  over  the  water:  A  young  girl  with 
a  yoke  and  pails  made  a  picturesque  silhouette  against 
the  sky  as  she  stood  on  the  high  bank.  The  swift  river 
current  runs  the  wheels  of  many  mills,  which,  in  the 
form  of  boats,  are  anchored  in  the  stream.  A  bridge 
of  boats  took  us  across  to  the  factory  town  of 
Pontelagoscuro.     The  lights  of  Ferrara  soon  glowed 


130      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

through  the  dusk  and  we  disembarked  at  the  Stella 
d'  Oro.  ■ 

Visitors  to  Ferrara  are  naturally  drawn  first  to  the 
massive,  moated,  square-towered  castle  of  the  Este, 
where  centred  the  brilliant  life  of  the  Ferrarese  court. 
Its  history  sounds  the  names  of  Ariosto  and  Tasso,  of 
John  Calvin  and  of  Titian.  Moat  and  dungeon,  ban- 
quet-hall and  sunlit  terrace  remind  us  of  times  when 


THE  MARKET-PLACE  FERRARA. 


smiles  and  tears  held  closer  converse  than  they  hold  to- 
day. A  tottering  but  animated  relic  of  the  past,  who 
confessed  to  eighty-eight  summers,  was  our  guide. 
Up-stairs  and  down  she  led  us,  chattering  as  she  went. 
Her  chief  delight  lay  in  showing  us  the  dungeons 
where  Parisina  and  Ugo,  a  faithless  pair,  were  confined. 
The  old  woman  gloated  over  the  punishment  meted  out 
to  them.    Byron's  genius  has  given  added  interest  to 


Anderson  pho.o.  Borghese  Gallery,  Rome 

TURA  "  S.  GIACOMO  DELLA  MARCA." 

133 


Venice,  Padua,  Ferrara 


i35 


the  story.  The  fine  pictures  that  filled  the  castle 
in  Titian's  day  have  all  departed,  so  we  are  soon  out 
again  in  the  sunshine.  The  near-by  cathedral  has  an 
exterior  that  is  attractive  and  architecturally  interest- 
ing, showing  Gothic  superimposed  on  Romanesque. 
The  portals  and  the  first  row  of  arched  openings  have 
rounded  tops.  Then  comes  the  Gothic.  The  higher 
we  go,  the  later  and  more  pointed  is  the  arch.  Small 
shops  sit  close  in  the  southern  shelter  of  the  long 
side-wall,  bordering  the  busy  market-place.  The 
cathedral  contains  two  works  by  Tura,  an  Annunciation 
and  a  St.  George,  of  1469,  once  shutters  to  the  organ. 
Francia's  Coronation  is  affected  and  unimpressive. 
Garofalo  is  better  represented  by  an  enthroned  Ma- 
donna. From  the  cathedral  we  go  to  the  Palazzo 
Schifanoia,  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  Built  mainly 
under  Borso  d'  Este,  it  was  adorned  with  numerous 
frescoes,  of  which  some  were  later  destroyed  and  some 
covered  with  whitewash.  The  latter,  by  Tura  and  his 
pupils,  have  recently  been  brought  to  light  and  form 
a  most  interesting  series.  Here  we  see  the  so-called 
Triumphs  of  various  gods  and  goddesses,  the  signs  of 
the  zodiac,  and,  below,  scenes  from  the  life  of  Borso.' 
Cosimo  Tura,  born  about  1420,  was  the  first  great 
Ferrarese  painter.  His  art  shows  qualities  similar  to 
that  of  Squarcione's  Paduan  school,  the  plasticity 
of  his  draperies  outrivalling  that  of  Mantegna.  But 
Tura  does  not  stop  at  draperies.  His  pictures  are  plas- 
ticity run  riot,  with  a  result  that  is  marvellous  in  its 


136      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

content  of  strength,  witness  his  San  Jacopo  delta  Mar- 
ca,  recently  bought  for  the  Borghese  Gallery.  Hung 
facing  Raphael's  Deposition,  this  colourless,  grey-toned 
picture  proves  its  mastery  by  simply  killing  the  more 
celebrated  work.  The  great  Piero  dei  Franceschi, 
of  Borgo  San  Sepolcro,  spent  some  time  in  Ferrara  and 
probably  had  a  considerable  influence  upon  the  slightly 
younger  Tura.    The  Schifanoia  frescoes  bear  witness 


FERRARESE  OXEN. 


to  this.  Francesco  Cossa  was  an  able  follower  of  Tura's 
who  undoubtedly  worked  on  the  Schifanoia  cycle. 
The  later  Ercole  Roberti,  developed  also  under  Tura's 
influence,  was  the  last  great  painter  of  Ferrara 's  earlier 
school.  The  next  century  saw  Garofalo  and  Dosso 
Dossi  the  leaders  of  the  local  art.  While  both  pro- 
duced fine  works  they  do  not  hold  one  as  do  the  earlier 
masters.     Garofalo  tends  toward  the  Raphaelesque, 


Borghese  Gallery,  Rome 

GAROPALO— MADONNA. 
(Detail.) 


137 


Venice,  Padua,  Ferrara 


I39 


developing  a  colour  scheme  of  his  own.  Dosso,  a  more 
vigorous  nature,  often  fantastic,  tends  toward  Giorgione 
and  chiaroscuro. 

Ferrara's  picture  gallery  is  in  the  Palazzo  dei  Dia- 
manti,  a  well-proportioned  building  whose  entire  sur- 
face is  cut  into  the  facets  which  give  it  its  name. 
Dosso's  large  altarpiece  is  the  best  picture  here. 
Though  a  trifle  grandiose  in  conception  it  has  a  saving 
dignity.  Dresden  and  Modena  possess  fine  examples  of 
Dosso.  Of  Garofalo,  the  Ferrara  gallery  has  numer- 
ous examples.  His  best  works  are  in  the  Borghese 
Gallery  in  Rome,  one  of  which,  as  extremely  typical,  is 
reproduced  here,  in  part.  Mazzolino,  Panetti,  and 
Ercole  Grandi  are  lesser  but  interesting  Ferrarese 
masters. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


RAVENNA,  RIMINI,  SAN  MARINO. 

FROM  Ferrara  to  Ravenna  is  forty-five  miles. 
The  low-lying  road  was  muddy  from  recent 
rains  and  advantage  had  been  taken  of  this  to 
spread  quantities  of  crushed  stone.    It  was  our  first 


OUR  FIRST  TROUBLE  (FERRARA-RAVENNA). 


experience  of  the  enemy  that  was  to  produce  many 

punctures.    We  were  still  immune,  without  a  puncture 

to  date.    Our  first  trouble  of  the  trip  did  occur,  though, 

shortly  after  leaving  Ferrara.     A  porcelain  insulator 

broke  and  held  us  up  for  twenty  minutes  to  the  delight  of 

140 


Ravenna,  Rimini,  San  Marino  141 

some  urchins  who  scrambled  for  largesse  in  the  shape  of 
chocolate.  Bertoni  having  put  things  right,  we  were 
off  again  through  a  low  country  whose  rich  black  soil 
was  cut  into  squares  by  irrigating  ditches.  Soon  came 
the  high  banks  of  the  Reno,  stretching  across  the  plain, 
protecting  the  lowlands  from  flood  and  making  irriga- 
tion from  the  high-flowing  river  a  very  simple  matter. 
The  river  crossed,  we  tended  toward  the  left,  through 
Alfonsine,  and  then  ran  straight  on  until  Ravenna, 
with  her  towers,  became  a  picturesque  goal. 

Ravenna  is  the  most  complete  and  interesting  ex- 
ample of  the  art  of  the  fifth  and  sixth  centuries.  The 
Emperor  Honorius,  leaving  Rome  at  the  approach  of 
the  barbarian  hordes,  held  his  court  at  Ravenna,  which 
later,  under  Theodoric,  became  the  seat  of  the  Gothic 
kings.  When  the  Emperor  of  the  East  sent  his  exarchs 
to  rule  Italy  they  had  their  centre  of  government 
here.  Ravenna's  historical  monuments  bear  witness 
to  her  active  life  during  all  of  these  periods.  They 
have  come  down  to  us  singularly  free  from  change, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  the  course  of  history  has  tended 
away  from  Ravenna,  in  these  later  centuries,  and  has 
left  her  isolated.  The  sea,  as  well,  which  might  have 
retained  for  Ravenna  her  commercial  importance,  has 
withdrawn  from  her,  for  all  of  which  the  student  must 
be  thankful. 

Ravenna  is  a  city  of  mosaics.  Her  prime  came  when 
art  was  best  expressed  in  pictures  of  stone,  whose  endur- 
ing quality  has  brought  them  down  to  us  without 


142     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

impairment.  Crude  they  are,  no  doubt,  but  very  beau- 
tiful in  their  strength  of  colour,  brilliant  when  the  light 


BYZANTINE  CAPITAL,  SAN  VITALE  RAVENNA. 


strikes  them.  Go  into  the  small  church  erected  as  her 
tomb  by  Galla  Placidia,  sister  of  Honorius,  walk  forward 
as  far  as  you  can,  and  then  turn.    If  the  door  has 


Ravenna,  Rimini,  San  Marino 


145 


been  left  open  a  wondrous  blue  as  of  the  deepest  ocean 
gladdens  the  eye  where  the  mosaic  of  the  vaulted  ceil- 
ing catches  the  light  from  the  world  outside.  This 
fifth-century  tomb  with  its  mosaics  and  sarcophagi 
is  the  best-remembered  thing  in  Ravenna.  Thor- 
oughly simple  and  unostentatious,  it  breathes  forth 
the  spirit  of  the  early  Church.  The  mosaics  are  largely 
symbolical.  We  see  Christ  represented  as  the  Good 
Shepherd,  the  Evangelists  with  their  symbols,  etc. 
The  Baptistery  of  the  Orthodox  contains  an  even 
earlier  mosaic  of  equal  fineness,  representing  the  Bap- 
tism of  Christ.  Similar  work  in  the  Aryan  Baptistery 
is  later  and  not  so  good.  San  Vitale,  a  most  interest- 
ing building  containing  fine  mosaics,  has  been  in  great 
part  miserably  "restored"  in  most  execrable  taste. 
Lovers  of  art  and  archaeology  have  tried  to  have  the 
barbarous  innovations  removed,  but  the  people  of  Ra- 
venna, dead  to  all  sense  of  the  beauty  of  their  artistic 
heritage,  have  resolutely  refused  to  allow  any  changes 
to  be  made.  The  old  capitals  of  San  Vitale's  columns 
carry  the  Byzantine  style  to  an  earlier  period  than  that 
shown  by  St.  Mark's  at  Venice,  and  are  close  to 
those  of  incomparable  Santa  Sophia  at  Constanti- 
nople, once  worthily  the  greatest  church  in  Christen- 
dom and  even  to-day,  in  spite  of  Mohammedan 
disfigurement,  far  more  impressive  than  St.  Peter's. 
San  Vitale  contains  mosaics  representing  the  Em- 
peror Justinian  and  Theodora,  his  Empress.  Theo- 
dora and  her  attendants,  with  their  big  Byzantine 
10 


146     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

eyes  and  heavily  pencilled  brows,  are  interesting 
types. 

St.  Apollinaris,  patron  of  Ravenna,  has  been  honoured 
by  two  churches.  The  older,  perversely  called  "S. 
Apollinare  Nuovo,"  was  built  by  Theodoric.  Its  fine 
old  circular  campanile  and  the  mosaics  of  the  nave  are 
both  noteworthy.  Near  by  is  the  so-called  Palace  of 
Theodoric,  of  which  but  little  remains  and  that  little 
of  dubious  authenticity.  The  cathedral  contains  sev- 
eral fine  early-Christian  sarcophagi  (Ravenna  is  full 
of  them)  and  a  celebrated  episcopal  chair,  covered 
with  a  veneering  of  carved  ivory,  some  of  whose  panels 
are  missing,  though  several  lost  ones  have  been  returned 
from  Rome  and  Pesaro. 

Many  other  relics  of  these  older  days  we  must  leave 
unmentioned,  passing  on  to  that  middle  period  that 
found  Dante  the  guest  of  Guido  da  Polenta.  The 
great  Florentine  exile,  after  all  his  years  of  wanderings, 
found  here  the  rest  for  which  his  restless  soul  had 
longed.  He  died  here  in  132 1.  His  tomb,  with  a 
bas-relief  by  Pietro  Lombardo,  is  less  impressive  than 
the  ancient  sarcophagi  that  adjoin  it.  The  Academy 
contains  several  pictures  by  Rondinelli,  a  Ravennese 
who  studied  under  Giovanni  Bellini,  in  Venice.  It  is 
Venice,  too,  that  gives  us  our  greatest  pleasure  in 
Ravenna,  for  her  sculptor,  Tullio  Lombardo,  was  the 
maker  of  that  splendid  warrior,  lying  in  the  slumber 
of  death,  clothed  in  all  his  panoply  of  war.  Guida- 
rello  Guidarelli  will  not  soon  be  forgotten  by  one 


Ravenna,  Rimini,  San  Marino  149 

who  has  gazed  upon  the  calmness  of  his  noble  face. 
How  comparatively  futile,  utterly  futile,  is  Canova's 
Endymion,  in  the  next  room! 

As  we  leave  Ravenna  we  run  first  to  the  tomb  of 
Theodoric,  outside  the  Porta  Serrata.  This  massive 
monument  is  not  so  impressive  as  it  might  be  and  did 
not  hold  us  long.  Back  and  out  again  by  the  Porta 
Nuova,  a  three  miles'  run  brings  us  to  that  other  church 


BASILICA  OF  S.  APOLLIN ARE  IN  CLASSE  RAVENNA. 


erected  in  honour  of  St.  Apollinaris,  S.  Apollinare  in 
Classe.  The  basilica  and  its  campanile  are  inter- 
esting but  dilapidated,  an  appropriate  word  to  use 
when  we  think  of  Sigismondo  Malatesta's  theft  of  the 
marble  panelling  of  the  interior.  The  mosaics  of  the 
tribune  are  in  good  condition.  The  author  of  the  tab- 
ernacle at  the  end  of  the  left  aisle  was  a  man  of  more 
religion  than  scholarship,   as  his  inscription,  "ego 


150     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Petrus  Presbuteros  fecit,"  shows.  The  early  sar- 
cophagi here  are  fine.  Ravenna's  collection  of  these 
early  tombs  with  their  sculptured  symbols  is  surpassed 
only  in  the  Christian  museum  of  the  Lateran,  where 
the  museum  atmosphere  detracts  from  the  pleasure 
given.  Near  S.  Apollinare  we  catch  a  distant  view 
of  the  column  to  Gaston  de  Foix,  erected  on  the  field 
where  the  youthful  hero  lost  his  life  in  the  hour  of  that 


DANTE'S  "PINETA,"  RAVENNA. 


victory  which  his  valour  and  genius  had  done  so  much 
to  produce. 

On  again,  we  soon  come  to  the  "  Pineta, "  the  pine 
forest  celebrated  by  Dante.  We  agreed  with  Dante 
upon  the  attractiveness  of  these  tufted  trees  with  their 
long,  bare  trunks  topped  with  dark  massy  foliage.  A 
run  of  fifteen  miles  over  a  flat  country,  with  the  road 
coming  closer  and  closer  to  the  Adriatic,  brought  us  to 
Cesenatico,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Pisciatello,  the  ancient 
Rubicon.  With  its  high-hanging  fishing  nets  of  a 
most  peculiar  type,  it  was  interesting  even  without 


Ravenna,  Rimini,  San  Marino  151 

visions  of  the  mighty  Julius.  Another  fifteen  miles 
and  we  are  in  Rimini,  having  joined  the  Bologna  road, 
the  splendid  Via  ^Emilia  of  antiquity,  a  short  distance 
outside  the  town.  We  entered  over  the  bridge  built 
by  Augustus  across  the  Marecchia.  Stopping  at  the 
Aquila  d'  Oro  to  leave  our  baggage,  we  sped  on  through 
the  Porta  Montanara,  bound  for  lofty  San  Marino, 
the  little  republic  that  is  to-day  the  only  exception  to 


THE  RUBICON. 

a  United  Italy.  Perched  on  her  precipitous  ramparts, 
she  seems  impregnable.  Even  that  conqueror  of 
obstacles,  Napoleon,  passed  her  by,  preferring  to 
direct  his  energies  on  a  task  with  results  more  in  pro- 
portion to  the  difficulty. 

The  road,  at  first  almost  level,  soon  became  hilly. 
Before  long  we  came  in  sight  of  our  lofty  destination. 
One  last  plunge  down  into  a  valley  and  then  up  again 


152     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

we  went  on  a  steady,  stiff  gradient  to  the  top,  winding 
at  last  in  a  broad  turn  around  the  northerly  end  of  the 
ridge.  With  never  a  tremor  or  slackening  of  speed 
the  car  shot  forward,  passed  the  gateway,  and  sped 
upward  into  the  highest  piazza,  where  no  car  had  been 
before. 

As  we  had  come  under  the  shadow  of  the  mountain,  a 
mist  had  risen  over  it  that  was  turned  by  the  sun  into 
an  aureole  of  strange  beauty.  Later,  while  we  sat  on 
the  topmost  ridge,  the  mist,  which  had  drifted  east- 
ward, produced  an  effect  of  which  we  had  heard  but 
never  seen.  Our  figures  were  reproduced  as  shadows 
on  the  cloud,  shadows  that  were  distinct  and  clear, 
our  movements  being  readily  distinguished.  I  tried 
to  get  some  result  with  the  camera,  but,  needless  to  say, 
the  attempt  proved  a  failure. 

From  San  Marino  the  view  to  west  and  south-west 
was  a  fine  one.  Snow-peaks  capped  the  distance 
beyond  countless  rows  of  hills.  To  the  south,  Urbinc 
could  be  dimly  seen.  To  the  east,  after  the  mist  had 
passed,  the  hazy  Adriatic  lay  peacefully.  At  our 
feet,  the  narrow  white  roads  stretched  away  into  the 
distance.  After  an  enjoyable  hour  we  descended  to 
the  piazza  where  stands  the  Palazzo  del  Governo, 
"built  from  the  sale  of  postage  stamps."  Of  course 
we  all  bought  stamps  and  mailed  post-cards  to  friends 
at  home.  Then  we  were  off  once  more  for  Rimini, 
arriving  before  dark.  After  dinner,  a  walk  of  a  mile 
brought  us  to  the  beach.    Rimini  affords  fine  sea- 


SAN  MARINO  AN  OUTLOOK. 


155 


157 


Ravenna,  Rimini,  San  Marino  159 

bathing,  made  by  November  to  look  anything  but 
inviting. 

Rimini,  once  Ariminum,  was  an  important  port 
under  the  Romans,  sufficiently  so  for  Augustus  to 
build  a  bridge  and  a  triumphal  arch  there.  The  bridge 
still  carries  and  the  arch  still  spans  the  highway.  The 
old  Romans  certainly  built  for  posterity.  The  Via 
Flaminia  ended  here.  The  Via  ^Emilia,  cutting  Italy 
on  the  other  diagonal,  began  here.  The  modern  road- 
way bearing  the  same  name  and  following  the  same 
course  runs  in  a  broad  straight  line  from  Rimini  to 
Piacenza,  over  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles. 

Lovers  of  Dante  know  Rimini  as  the  scene  of  the 
tragic  love-story  of  Paolo  and  Francesca.  Those  who 
have  seen  Duse  in  the  admirable  dramatisation  can 
easily  surround  the  old  castle  of  the  Malatesta  with  a 
feudal  atmosphere.  Sigismondo,  the  greatest  Mala- 
testa, was  a  patron  of  the  arts.  The  remodelling  of 
what  is  to-day  known  as  the  "Tempio  Malatestiano " 
(the  Duomo)  gave  Sigismondo  an  opportunity  to 
employ  Leon  Battista  Alberti  as  architect,  Agostino 
di  Duccio  as  sculptor,  and  Piero  dei  Franceschi  as 
painter.  The  work  of  all  these  men  may  be  seen  in  the 
over-decorated  edifice  in  which  Sigismondo  buried  his 
beloved  Isotta.  His  initial,  intertwined  with  hers, 
is  scattered  everywhere,  forming  "dollar-marks." 
The  elephant,  too,  is  a  frequent  symbol,  causing  an 
irreverent  member  of  the  party  to  notice  the  propin- 
quity of  "the  dollar-mark  to  the  G.  0.  P."  Agostino's 


160     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

sculptured  putti  and  his  symbolical  figures  of  women, 
in  relief  on  a  blue  ground,  are  very  fine.  Perugia  will 
later  show  us  more  examples  of  the  interesting  work 
of  this  sculptor.  In  the  "Chapel  of  the  Relics"  is 
Piero  dei  Franceschi's  picture  of  Sigismondo  kneeling 
before  his  patron  saint,  a  simple,  straightforward 
work.  With  regard  to  Piero,  Mr.  Charles  Loeser  tells 
an  interesting  anecdote.  With  a  Japanese,  whose 
family  for  generations  had  been  art-critics,  he  was 
making  a  round  of  the  National  Gallery.  The  visit 
over,  the  Japanese  went  back  to  Piero 's  Baptism  and 
proclaimed  it  the  finest  work  in  the  gallery.  Advanced 
critics  of  European  art  might  not  all  agree  with  him  but 
they  would  be  far  closer  to  an  agreement  than  the  lay 
mind  might  suppose. 

Rimini's  gallery  contains  an  early  Pieta  by  Giovanni 
Bellini.  Here  Christ  is  supported  by  four  child-angels, 
most  attractive  with  their  bare  legs  and  banged  hair. 
A  local  artist,  Benedetto  Coda,  in  his  enthroned  Ma- 
donna of  1 5 13  shows  himself  a  follower  of  Lorenzo 
Costa.  A  large  Martyrdom  of  St.  Sebastian,  attributed 
to  Signorelli,  is  a  good  but  injured  work  by  Zaganelli. 
The  three  saints  attributed  to  the  school  of  Ghirlandajo 
are,  together  with  a  figure  of  God,  works  of  the  master 
himself.    The  other  pictures  are  of  minor  importance. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


FORLI,  FAENZA,  PARMA,  MODENA,  BOLOGNA. 

WE  awoke  to  a  rainy  day,  which  made  Bertoni 
look  none  too  cheerful  as  he  brought  the  car 
around.  Thirty  kilometres  on  the  Via  Amelia, 
with  views  of  San  Marino,  brought  us  to  Cesena  with 
its  hill-top  fortress.  We  were  now  in  the  Romagna, 
a  district  whose  inhabitants  are  hot-headed  but  sturdy 
and  intelligent.  Bertoni  was  a  Romagnole  and  a  typi- 
cal one. 

Twenty  kilometres  beyond  Cesena,  Forli  came  into 
sight.  Entering  the  town,  we  drew  a  nice-looking  boy 
onto  the  foot-board  and  proceeded  to  use  him  as  a  guide, 
going  first  to  the  church  of  San  Mercuriale.  Artist- 
ically, Forli  recalls  Melozzo  and  his  pupil,  Palmezzano. 
San  Mercuriale,  San  Biagio,  and  the  gallery  hold  works 
by  the  latter  which  have  a  deal  of  charm,  in  spite  of 
their  being  third-class.  Melozzo  was  Forli's  greatest 
painter  and  a  noble  one.  The  local  gallery  has  only 
his  vigorous  Apothecary,  who  strenuously  works  with 
mortar  and  pestle.  Rome  and  Loreto  contain  his  best 
works  and  now  Florence,  by  a  recent  acquisition  of  the 
Uffizi,  delights  us  with  a  charming  brown-hued  figure 
of  an  annunciant  angel. 

165 


1 66     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Saying  good-bye  to  our  young  guide,  we  passed 
through  the  Porta  Garibaldi  en  route  to  Faenza.  As 
we  left  the  town,  the  sun  came  out  and  cheered  us  up. 
The  next  twenty  kilometres  of  fine  road  brought  us, 
in  twenty  minutes,  to  Faenza,  where  our  hungry 
party  made  a  fine  lunch  at  the  Corona. 

Faenza,  a  clean  little  city,  gave  its  name  to  the 
majolica  known  as  "fayence,"  a  collection  of  which 


CESENA. 


may  be  seen  in  the  museum.  Here,  too,  are  interesting 
pictures  by  the  local  artists,  Bertucci  and  the  little- 
known  Andrea  and  Giovanni  Utili.  Bertucci  writes 
himself  down  as  influenced  by  the  Umbrians.  The 
Utili  show  the  influence  of  Verocchio.  Several  works,, 
undoubtedly  by  them,  still  masquerade  under  the  name 
of  the  greater  master.  A  bust  of  the  young  Baptist, 
attributed  to  Donatello,  is  probably  by  the  hand  of 


Alinari  photo.  Faenza. 
"  THE  YOUNG  BAPTIST." 
(Attributed  to  Donatello.) 
I69 


Forll,  Faenza,  Parma,  Modena,  Bologna  171 

Antonio  Rossellino,who  has  well  portrayed  the  sweetness 
of  childhood's  innocence.  Donatello's  St.  Jerome  is  a 
fine  work. 

Faenza  boasts  a  cathedral  larger  than  she  was  ever 
able  to  finish.  Like  San  Petronio,  at  near-by  Bologna, 
the  imposing  front  shows  bare  brick  instead  of  the 
intended  marble.  Inside,  San  Savino's  tomb  is  of 
most  interest,  a  fine  work  with  panels  in  relief  by 
Benedetto  da  Majano.  A  long  look,  and  then  we  are  off 
again,  speeding  to  Bologna  as  fast  as  possible,  for  we 
are  bound  for  distant  Parma  and  it  is  getting  late. 
Bologna  stops  us  for  a  moment  as  we  call  for  letters, 
and  then  off  we  go  again,  through  Modena  and  Reggio. 
We  start  our  lamps  twenty  kilometres  from  Parma, 
and  speed  on  through  the  dusk  till  the  lights  of  the  city 
greet  us,  the  Croce  Bianca  taking  us  in  for  the  night. 

For  the  art-lover,  Parma  and  Correggio  are  syn- 
onyms. The  master  of  luminosity  has  filled  his 
adopted  town  with  works  which,  though  failing  to  lift 
him  to  the  pinnacle  reached  by  the  great  masters  of  a 
severer  tradition,  are  yet  the  finest  of  their  kind.  Time 
has  dealt  hardly  with  the  most  celebrated  product 
of  his  brush,  the  Assumption  that  fills  the  dome  of  the 
cathedral,  which  seemed  to  have  deteriorated  some- 
what even  since  our  previous  visit.  To  see  it  at  all 
well,  one  must  climb  up  to  where  small  balconies  look 
out  into  the  cupola.  The  wreck  of  a  former  glory  can 
give  but  a  small  idea  of  the  original  effect.  Paolo 
Toschi,  by  his  aquarelle  copies  in  the  picture  gallery, 


172     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

has  helped  us  to  realise  the  beauty  that  has  been  lost 
to  us. 

Correggio's  earlier  dome-fresco,  in  S.  Giovanni 
Evangelista,  is  in  better  condition.  As  a  whole  it  is 
less  pleasing  than  the  Assumption,  though  some  of  the 
figures  are  fine.  The  lunette  with  St.  John,  in  the  same 
church,  is  a  most  effective  composition.  Modernity 
has  arranged  for  its  lighting  by  electricity,  with  a  sur- 
prisingly good  result  as  to  the  colour,  which  fairly  glows. 
The  so-called  Camera  di  San  Paolo,  with  a  ceiling  full  of 
cherubs,  continues  our  appreciation  of  Correggio's  art, 
as  does  the  library  with  its  Coronation  fresco.  The 
gallery,  well  rearranged  by  Corrado  Ricci,  possesses  a 
truly  fine  piece  of  painting.  Correggio's  Madonna  of 
St.  Jerome  is  to  me  the  most  thoroughly  successful 
example  of  the  baroque.  Its  sugary  qualities  must 
pall  in  time,  yet  one  must  admit  the  picture's  power  to 
attract.  Correggio  and  Parmigianino,  who  followed  in 
his  footsteps,  both  come  perilously  near  the  border-line 
of  insipidity  and  yet  save  themselves  by  qualities  that 
proclaim  their  genius.  Parmigianino's  Marriage  of 
St.  Catherine,  in  a  neighbouring  room,  is  an  excellent 
example  of  his  work. 

Parma's  cathedral  and  octagonal,  six-storied  bap- 
tistery form  a  fine  group.  The  interior  of  the  latter 
contains  much  that  is  old.  Here  are  early  and  stately 
frescoes,  painted  before  Giotto's  day,  of  more  import- 
ance in  art-history  than  has  been  accorded  them.  St. 
John  appears,  his  head  the  head  of  an  eagle,  and 


Forli,  Faenza,  Parma,  Modena,  Bologna  177 

likewise  Mark,  with  his  lion's  head,  unusual  representa- 
tions for  Italy  to  give. 

The  Professor  and  I  had  planned  to  leave  early  for 
a  run  to  San  Donnino  and  back,  before  the  rest  of  the 
party  were  up,  but  Bertoni  failed  us.  We'  found,  on 
going  to  his  room,  that  he  was  ill,  so  we  gave  up  the  idea 
of  the  extra  trip.  Returning  to  Bologna  we  stopped 
at  Modena  for  a  quick  visit  to  the  gallery,  where  there 
are  three  excellent  Dossos.  The  Madonna  with  Sts. 
George  and  Michael  is  very  virile,  particularly  the 
figure  of  St.  George.  Modem's  cathedral,  with  its 
fine  old  portals,  in  interesting.  The  pinkish-yellow, 
brick  interior  is  effective  it  its  almost  Norman  sim- 
plicity. We  stopped  a  moment  at  the  home  of  Bertoni's 
brother,  but  Bertoni  was  too  miserable  to  enjoy  seeing 
his  family,  even  the  pretty  sister  being  unable  to  cheer 
him  up.  We  went  on  again  through  a  downpour.  It 
was  a  mud-bespattered  party  that  drew  up  at  the 
Hotel  Brun.  The  house  looked  inviting,  but  the  pro- 
prietor, sanguine  of  his  ability  to  squeeze  automobilists, 
so  priced  his  rooms  that  we  departed  forthwith,  to  find 
excellent  accommodations  at  the  Italia. 

Our  experience  of  the  Via  Mmilia  was  a  pleasing  one, 
in  spite  of  the  mud.  The  smoothness  of  the  road  is  un- 
broken, the  rises  at  culverts  or  bridges  being  so  admir- 
ably graded  that  the  car  goes  over  them  at  great  speed 
without  the  sign  of  a  jounce.  Indicative  of  the  smooth- 
ness was  our  experience  with  a  big  black  beetle,  that 
struck  the  front  of  the  dash  and  rebounded  onto  the 
12 


178     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

radiator-cap,  where  he  lay  for  some  time  on  his  back, 
spinning  like  a  good  fellow.  As  he  failed  to  bounce  off, 
I  finally  reached  over  and  set  him  straight.  A  "  lady  " 
crossing-keeper  on  the  railroad,  near  Reggio,  showed 
us  courtesy  by  opening  the  gates  after  they  were  closed 
in  expectation  of  a  train.  It  is  an  aggravation  to 
motorists  to  know  that  the  law  gives  gate-keepers  the 
right  to  close  the  gates  fifteen  minutes  before  a  train 
is  scheduled  to  arrive.  Under  the  recent  regime, 
whereby  Italian  trains  are  allowed  to  run  behind 
even  their  slow  schedules,  considerable  annoyance 
may  be  caused.  Once  or  twice  on  the  trip  we  had 
trouble,  but  usually  the  gate-keepers  were  very  decent. 
One  fellow  who  heard  us  coming  thought  that  we  were 
a  train  and  rushed  to  close  his  gates.  It  took  a  long 
argument  to  prove  him  wrong.  When  he  finally  let 
us  through,  the  bystanders  jeered  him  heartily. 

Bologna  is  a  city  of  colonnades.  One  can  walk  for 
long  distances  under  cover,  a  great  convenience  in  so 
moist  a  climate.  Situated  just  north  of  the  Apennines, 
the  town  gets  a  good  share  of  rain,  evidenced  during 
our  stay.  The  streets  are  lined  with  handsome  old 
buildings,  for  the  most  part  three  stories  in  height, 
producing  an  unusual  uniformity  that  gives  character 
to  the  town.  Bologna  is  an  intellectual  and  literary 
centre  and  one  of  the  most  progressive  towns  in  Europe. 
In  many  respects  it  reminds  one  of  Milan,  but  there  is 
more  of  an  atmosphere  than  the  heterogeneous  Lom- 
bard capital  possesses,  due,  perhaps,  to  Bologna's 


Forli,  Faenza,  Parma,  Modena,  Bologna  181 


smaller  size.  The  life  of  the  city  centres  in  the  Piazza 
Vittorio  Emanuele  and  the  adjoining  Piazza  del  Net- 
tuho,  where  Giovanni  da  Bologna's  bronze  Neptune, 
an  utterly  uninspiring  baroque  figure,  tops  Laurati's 
fountain.  The  near-by  church  of  S.  Petronio,  the  most 
important  in  Bologna,  stands  uncompleted,  the  bricks 
of  its  upper  front  rising  bare  above  the  noble  sculptures 
of  the  great  Sienese,  Jacopo  della  Quercia.  Master 
Jacopo  was  a  truly  great  artist,  deserving  of  a  place 
beside  his  somewhat  younger  contemporary,  Dona- 
tello.  In  looking  at  these  S.  Petronio  panels,  one  feels 
crudely  the  spirit  that  later  informed  the  work  of 
Michael  Angelo.  How  splendid  are  the  creations  of 
Adam  and  Eve,  and  the  Temptation;  how  truly  the 
artist  felt  the  solemnity  of  the  Nativity  and  Epiphany! 
The  church  has  a  very  spacious  interior.  Our  visit 
was  at  "All  Saints,"  an  important  day  in  Italy,  and  a 
portion  of  the  huge  nave  had  been  covered  by  a  canopy, 
making  it  easier  for  the  congregation  to  hear  the  sermon 
preached  beneath  it.  With  vehement  gesture  a  padre 
with  fine,  clear-cut  profile  was  urging  upon  his  hearers 
the  practicability  of  a  truly  Christian  life  amid  modern 
conditions.  The  sermon  over,  we  wandered  through 
the  many  chapels,  filled  with  frescoes  and  altarpieces 
of  varied  epochs.  Nothing  here,  however,  shows  an 
artist  at  his  best,  so  a  description  is  superfluous.  The 
Museum  of  Antiquities  near  S.  Petronio  is  interesting 
for  its  Etruscan  remains  and  for  a  fine  head  of  Athena, 
which  Fiirtwangler  plausibly  contends  had  a  Pheidian 


1 82     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

original.  The  Palazzo  Bevilacqua,  with  its  fine  court, 
deserves  a  visit  as  one  goes  to  S.  Domenico,  where  rest 
the  remains  of  the  great  founder  of  the  Dominicans,  an 
angel  on  whose  tomb  is  an  early  work  of  Michael 
Angelo. 

Between  S.  Domenico  and  the  leaning  towers  we 
stop  at  S.  Giovanni  in  Monte  to  see  a  Madonna  by 
Lorenzo  Costa,  who,  though  born  in  Ferrara,  may  be 
considered  one  of  the  Bolognese  school.  More  than 
twenty  of  his  most  active  years  were  spent  in  Bologna, 
in  co-operation  with  Francia,  the  greatest  of  Bologna's 
painters  of  the  late  quattrocento.  The  church  of 
Santo  Stefano,  that  queer  architectural  combination, 
is  near-by.  Seven  churches,  of  dates  varying  from 
the  fourth  to  the  seventeenth  century,  are  here  massed 
in  one  connected  group,  making  one  think  of  the 
"gingerbread  church"  of  Moscow. 

Bologna's  leaning  towers,  Garisenda  and  Asinelli, 
were  built  early  in  the  twelfth  century,  before  Pisa's 
tower  was  thought  of.  The  high  Asinelli  is  but  little 
out  of  the  perpendicular  but  appears  more  so  from  the 
fact  that  the  obliquely  built  Garisenda  leans  in  the 
opposite  direction.  The  Asinelli  makes  a  picturesque 
landmark,  whose  top  affords  a  fine  view.  The  neigh- 
bouring church  of  S.  Giacomo  Maggiore  contains  the 
chapel  of  Bologna's  proud  Bentivoglio  family,  adorned 
by  Costa  and  Francia  with  notable  works.  Costa's 
picture  of  1488  shows  the  Virgin  and  Child  seated  on  a 
throne  built  in  typical  Ferrarese  style.    The  portraits 


THE  LEANING  TOWERS  BOLOGNA. 


I83 


Alinari  photo.  Bologna. 
COSTA  MADONNA  OF  THE  BENTIVOGLIO  FAMILY. 


185 


Anderson  photo.  S.  Giacomo  Maggiorc,  Bologna. 

FRANCESCO  FRANCIA — DETAIL  OF  "  BENTIVOGLIO  MADONNA." 


187 


Forli,  Faenza,  Parma,  Modena,  Bologna  189 


of  the  Bentivoglio  family,  father,  mother,  four  sons,  and 
seven  daughters,  make  one  "delighted."  Costa's  other 
works  here  show  the  influence  of  Tura  and  Ercole 
Robert i.  His  later  pictures  become  far  less  severe 
and  more  akin  to  the  style  of  Francia.  The  latter's 
Bentivoglio  Madonna,  dated  1499,  is  one  of  the  finest 
things  he  ever  did,  a  truly  noble  work.  If  we  go  from 
here  to  the  gallery  and  look  at  Raphael's  over-praised 
St.  Cecilia,  we  are  loath  to  believe  the  story  that  Francia 
pined  away,  broken-hearted,  over  his  inability  to  com- 
pete with  the  art  of  the  younger  master  as  shown  in 
the  5/.  Cecilia.  Francia's  picture  is  so  far  superior  to 
the  Raphael  that  we  hate  to  think  of  the  older  man's 
heartburnings  over  a  matter  that  posterity  is  bound 
to  set  right,  though  long  in  the  doing.  The  St.  Cecilia 
is  a  work  of  which  it  is  difficult  to  speak  temperately. 
How  any  one  with  a  really  refined  and  educated  taste 
can  like  the  picture  is  beyond  comprehension.  "  What 
a  loss  to  art  was  Raphael's  early  death,  "  is  a  cry  that 
has  come  down  the  years.  We  may  be  more  than 
thankful  that  he  did  not  live  ten  years  longer.  I  dread 
to  think  what  the  art  of  the  great  genius  would  have 
degenerated  into  by  that  time.  Superlative  facility  de- 
thrones Raphael.  Greatest  of  draughtsmen,  his  pop- 
ularity lessened  his  inspiration.  While  he  remains 
himself,  Umbrian,  he  gives  us  pleasure;  but  we  cease 
to  love  him  from  the  day  he  becomes  eclectic.  His 
reputation  will  grow  less  with  the  centuries.  However 
great  his  powers,  his  pictures  proclaim  that  longer  life 


190     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


would  not  have  made  him  the  equal  of  Michael  Angelo, 
Titian,  or  Velasquez.  Even  his  own  teacher,  Perugino, 
who  painted  still  when  Raphael  had  gone,  holds  him- 


J antes  Simon  Coll.,  Berlin. 

VERMEER  "  THE  LETTER." 

self  true  to  his  art.  His  pictures  have  a  quality  of 
restraint  that  refuses  to  be  debased  by  the  fatal  facility 
of  the  time  and  he  remains  master  of  himself  to  the  end. 


/ 


Forll,  Faenza,  Parma,  Modena,  Bologna  191 

In  a  later  age,  Vermeer  and  Millet  are  splendid  ex- 
ponents of  the  same  quality.  Perfect  balance  through 
restraint  has  never  been  more  completely  expressed 
than  in  Vermeer's  Woman  Receiving  a  Letter,  in  the 
Simon  Collection,  Berlin. 

Starting  out  early  one  morning,  we  visited  the 
oratory  of  S.  Cecilia,  whose  walls  are  frescoed  with 
scenes  from  the  life  of  the  saint,  by  Francia,  Costa,  and 
their  pupils.  Francia  shows  best  here  in  his  charming 
Marriage  of  Cecilia  and  Valerian.  We  reached  the 
near-by  Academy  some  minutes  before  its  opening,  and, 
while  waiting,  were  much  amused  by  some  youngsters 
who  were  gambling  in  a  most  unique  manner.  Each 
player  had  a  number  of  old  pens  which  were  laid  down 
side  by  side,  hollow  side  down.  The  player  licked 
his  index  finger,  laid  it  across  the  pens  and  lifted  it 
suddenly,  drawing  up  as  many  pens  as  would  stick. 
The  pens  did  not  remain  stuck,  but  fell  back  to  the 
pavement.  As  far  as  we  could  make  out,  the  more 
pens  that  fell  on  their  backs,  the  better  for  the  player. 
While  we  watched,  three  or  four  other  youngsters  came 
up,  each  hauling  out  a  bunch  of  pens  as  he  approached. 
One  mournful  little  chap  lost  all  his  pens  and  had  to 
quit.  The  game  must  certainly  keep  the  school  au- 
thorities busy  supplying  pens. 

The  gallery  contains  some  fine  pictures.  Francia 
is  well  represented,  Costa  less  so.  The  later  Bolognese 
school  of  the  Caracci  offers  many  works,  Guido  Reni 
in  particular  being  eminent.    A  fine  master  he  would 


192     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

have  been  had  he  lived  in  the  "good  time."  Early 
Bolognese  art  is  represented  by  Avanzo  (not  the 
Paduan)  whose  ancona  is  well  worth  study.  He  was 
a  Giottist,  with  a  fine  sense  of  colour  and  a  nobility  of 
type.  The  Vivarini  have  an  altarpiece  here  that 
takes  us  back  to  Venice.  Cossa,  of  Ferrara,  shows 
a  strong  Madonna.  Of  Niccolo  Alunno,  whom  we  meet 
later  in  Umbria,  there  are  good  examples,  and  of 
Timoteo  Viti,  Raphael's  early  master,  there  is  a  re- 
pentant Magdalen  that  is  a  trifle  too  pleasing.  The 
collection,  as  a  whole,  is  interesting,  but  most  disap- 
pointing if  one  goes  expecting  to  enjoy  "  the  gem  of  the 
gallery,"  as  our  friend  Baedeker  puts  it. 

The  while  we  filled  our  eyes  and  minds  with  Bologna's 
sights,  our  poor  Bertoni  lay  in  bed  under  the  care  of 
the  doctor,  who  finally  decided  that  the  case  was  serious 
and  that  ten  days,  at  least,  would  be  necessary  to 
recovery.  After  sending  to  Modern  for  Bertoni's 
brother,  we  determined  to  go  over  the  mountains  to 
Florence,  if  we  could  get  a  chauffeur.  As  soon  as  his 
brother  arrived,  Bertoni  insisted,  in  spite  of  the  doctor, 
upon  going  to  his  old  home  in  Modena,  and  did  so, 
being  laid  up  there  for  a  long  time  with  a  severe  case 
of  typhoid. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  RATICOSA  PASS,   FLORENCE,  VALLOMBROSA,  PRATO, 

PISTOJA. 

WE  were  lucky  in  finding  a  capable  chauffeur  to 
take  us  to  Florence.  He  was  the  head  of  the 
Fiat  agency  at  Bologna  and  we  felt  safe  in 
his  hands.  Leaving  on  a  sunny  afternoon  by  the 
Porta  Sto.  Stefano,  we  followed  what  is  known  as  the 
"  old  road,"  by  way  of  Pianoro,  Lojano,  and  the  Raticosa 
Pass.  We  soon  began  to  ascend  and  before  long  had 
splendid  views  of  the  great  plain  to  the  north.  Later, 
the  Adriatic  became  visible.  As  we  neared  the  top 
of  the  pass,  a  wind,  bearing  icy  particles,  came  straight 
into  our  faces.  It  was  worse  than  our  Mont  Cenis 
experience.  Once  beyond  the  pass,  conditions  became 
more  comfortable  and  we  were  able  to  enjoy  the  view. 
Great  masses  of  a  scrubby  sort  of  beech  filled  the  land- 
scape with  their  yellow-red  glory.  The  whole  country- 
side was  divided  into  shooting-preserves.  Proprietary 
signposts  were  everywhere:  "  Band  it  a  Corsini,"  "  Ban- 
dita  Torrigiano,"  etc.,  the  latter  recalling  the  story  of 
Michael  Angelo's  broken  nose.  The  Italians  love 
shooting,  even  though  a  microscope  be  necessary  for 
the  discovery  of  the  victims.    The  pitiful  strings  of  wee 

13  J93 


194     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

birds  that  one  sees  hanging  in  front  of  poultry  shops 
emphasise  one  of  the  few  bad  traits  common  to  all 
Italians, — thoughtless  cruelty  to  animals.  Recently 


THE  DOME,  FLORENCE  CATHEDRAL. 


there  has  been  some  betterment  in  conditions, — witness 
the  officers  who  now  protect  overworked  horses  on  the 
Via  del  Tritone  and  other  steep  streets  of  Rome. 
It  began  to  rain  again  and  toward  dark  we  missed 


The  Raticosa  Pass,  Florence  197 

our  road  and  lost  half  an  hour.  However,  things 
straightened  themselves  and  we  were  soon  exclaiming 


Anderson  photo.  San  Lorenzo,  Florence. 


MICHAEL  ANGELO  HEAD  OF  LORENZO  DE*  MEDICI. 

at  the  myriad  lights  which  the  Florentines,  by  ancient 
custom,  keep  on  the  graves  of  their  dead  at  All  Saints 


198     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

and  during  the  week  following.  We  were  far  above 
them  as  they  twinkled  into  view  and  they  seemed 
innumerable.  The  road  was  steep  and  slippery,  which, 
with  the  darkness,  made  our  new  chauffeur's  task  no 
light  one.  In  spite  of  everything,  we  drew  up  at  the 
hotel  a  bit  after  six. 

Florence,  name  of  a  thousand  memories!  Town  of 
Dante  and  Giotto,  Savonarola  and  Lorenzo,  of  Michael 
Angelo,  Leonardo,  and  Donatello;  watched  over  equally 
by  Fiesole  to  the  north  and  by  San  Miniato  to  the 
southward ;  nobly  built  throughout,  but  glorying  chiefly 
in  Brunelleschi's  swelling  dome  and  the  rocket  tower 
of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio.  Graceful  loggia,  frowning 
palace,  frescoed  wall,  finest  work  of  sculptor's  chisel, — - 
with  all  these  has  Florence  been  dowered  by  the  great 
men  to  whom  she  gave  birth  or  asylum  in  the  days 
when  she  stood  foremost  as  the  intellectual  centre 
of  the  world. 

As  we  pass  the  marbled  front  of  the  cathedral, 
something  calls  us  and  we  find  ourselves  walking  the 
cheerless  nave.  The  magnet  that  draws  us  is  hidden, 
inconspicuous  in  its  position  behind  the  high  altar. 
Michael  Angelo's  great  Pieta,  far  nobler  than  his 
earlier  work  in  St.  Peter's,  stands  there  in  the  dim 
light,  unfinished  but  powerful,  the  great,  hooded  figure 
of  Joseph  of  Arimathea  looming  up  over  the  group, 
majestic  and  mournful.  One  may  well  believe  the 
story  that  the  sombre  sculptor  intended  this  to  sur- 
mount his  tomb.    Surely  his  mighty  soul  guided  his 


DONATELLO — "  ANNUNCIATION." 


199 


The  Raticosa  Pass,  Florence  201 

hand  in  the  work  and  yet  speaks  to  us  from  the  silent 
marble.  Florence  would  perform  a  good  deed  did 
she  bring  her  sculptor's  bones  and  place  them  here. 
Michael  Angelo's  spiritless  tomb  in  Santa  Croce  does 
not  worthily  cover  the  dead  master,  work  of  his  loving 
disciple  though  it  be. 

Florence  shows  us  much  of  Michael  Angelo's  great- 
ness. The  David,  the  Brutus,  the  powerful  Lapith 
relief,  the  Medici  tombs,  all  are  here.  In  the  presence 
of  his  best  works  it  is  hard  to  acknowledge  that  Michael 
Angelo  has  had  an  equal  in  any  age.  Certainly  no 
type  of  being  has  been  figured  by  another  that  can 
equal  his,  in  either  power  or  physical  majesty. 
*  'Ingens"  is  a  fit  adjective  to  put  to  it.  His  creations 
brood  with  a  brooding  so  intense  that  in  their  presence 
silence  becomes  audible.  We  may  not  like  it,  but 
who  of  us  is  unmoved? 

Donatello,  too,  is  well  seen  in  Florence.  A  nobly 
proportioned  room  in  the  Bargello  is  now  his  own,  hold- 
ing many  of  his  works  and  casts  of  all  his  others. 
Padua's  Gattamelata  stands  in  the  centre.  St.  George, 
brought  for  protection  from  Or  San  Michele,  is  here. 
A  Judith  and  a  David,  in  bronze,  are  sterling  works, 
while  the  bust  of  Niccolo  da  Uzzano  is  the  finest 
thing  of  its  kind.  Of  all  Donatello 's  works,  however, 
to  me  most  pleasing  is  the  Annunciation  in  Santa 
Croce,  nobly  conceived  and  finely  executed.  Luca 
della  Robbia,  founder  of  a  new  art,  was  Florence's 
third  great  plastic  artist.    His  cantoria  or  choir  loft, 


202     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

in  the  museum  of  the  cathedral,  perhaps  his  finest 
work,  bears  comparison  with  Donatello.  Ghiberti, 
Verocchio,  and  the  Pollaiuoli  are  other  Florentine 
names  to  which  the  treasures  of  Florence  bear  witness. 

Countless  paintings  fill  the  galleries,  churches,  and 
palaces.  Amid  such  richness  of  choice,  the  art-lover 
scarce  knows  which  way  to  turn.  The  Uffizi  makes 
first  claim,  more  now  than  ever,  thanks  to  the  added 
attractiveness  brought  about  by  its  able  directors.  A 
rearrangement  of  the  pictures  has  worked  wonders. 
Primitive  and  late  works  are  no  longer  in  killing  prox- 
imity and  a  harmonious  whole  gives  the  maximum 
of  pleasure  to  the  student.  The  Uffizi  and  the  Pitti  are 
treasure-houses  of  a  melange  of  schools  and  periods. 
Would  we  study  Florentine  artists  particularly,  what 
a  field  is  there  for  our  endeavours!  Giotto  at  Santa 
Croce,  Fra  Angelico  at  the  Academy  and  San  Marco, 
Benozzo  in  the  Riccardi  Chapel,  Masaccio  at  the 
Carmine,  Castagno  at  S.  Apollonia.  Fra  Filippo, 
strangely,  has  but  one  picture  in  a  Florentine  church, 
S.  Lorenzo,  though  the  Academy  shows  more  than  half 
a  dozen.  His  son,  Filippino,  meets  us  in  the  Carmine 
and  the  Badia,  and  with  later,  over-decorated,  neo- 
classic  monstrosities,  pleasing  withal,  in  Santa  Maria 
Novella.  Botticelli  shows  his  greatness  in  the  Academy, 
the  Uffizi,  and  in  the  private  apartments  of  the  Pitti 
Palace.  He  is,  in  many  ways,  the  greatest  purely 
Florentine  artist.  Leonardo  and  Michael  Angelo  do 
not  bespeak  their  native  soil  as  he  does.    Call  the 


Anderson  photo.  Uffizi  Gallery. 

FRA  FILIPPO  LIPPI  MADONNA. 

(Detail.) 


203 


S.  Maria  Maddalena  dei  Pazzi,  Florence 

PERUGINO  HEAD  OF  THE  VIRGIN. 

(Detail  of  a  Crucifixion.) 


207 


Vallombrosa,  Prato,  Pistoja  209 

number  of  his  splendid  works.  They  lift  him  to  a  high 
place  in  art: — the  Judith,  the  Fortezza,  the  Primavera, 
the  Birth  of  Venus,  the  Pallas — all  of  the  first  rank 
as  works  of  beauty  and  imagination.  Ghirlandajo 
we  find  at  Santa  Maria  Novella,  where  his  frescoes  were 
being  cleaned  during  our  visit,  a  scaffolding,  reaching 
to  the  top  of  the  choir,  being  built  for  the  use  of  the 
workmen.  I  wandered  in,  one  holiday  afternoon, 
and  found  the  church  deserted.  No  one  forbidding, 
I  climbed  far  up,  to  the  topmost  row  of  frescoes.  A 
good  workman  was  Domenico,  with  nothing  slipshod 
in  his  execution.  The  highest  figures,  as  the  lowest, 
were  done  with  loving  care.  Domenico  loved  his  work 
and  loved  to  work.  It  was  he  who  cried  for  all  the 
walls  of  Florence,  that  he  might  cover  them  with 
frescoes.  He  should  have  fame  for  himself  and  not 
alone  as  the  master  of  Michael  Angelo.  Andrea  del 
Sarto  lords  it  at  the  Annunziata  and  the  Scalzo.  S. 
Salvi  holds  his  Last  Supper,  which,  some  say,  is 
the  sole  design  to  be  unkilled  by  memories  of  Leonardo's 
work.  May  I  suggest  that  Tintoretto's  San  Giorgio 
picture  is  worthy  of  better  comment? 

Florence  was  long  the  home  of  Perugino.  To-day 
we  find  him  in  S.  Maria  Maddalena  dei  Pazzi,  where  his 
frescoed  Crucifixion  charms  both  in  itself  and  in  its 
setting.  Ruskin's  Mornings  in  Florence  leads  us  to 
the  cloisters  of  S.  Maria  Novella  and  the  Spanish 
Chapel.  Santa  Croce's  Giottos  are  not  so  fine  as 
Padua's  yet  are  they  still  fine.    One  could  go  on  and 


2io     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


on,  enumerating  Florence's  charms,  but  we  must  get 
back  to  our  Fiat. 

When  we  reached  Florence,  we  telegraphed  Turin 

for  a  chauffeur.  He  soon 
arrived  and  made  a  fav- 
ourable impression,  his 
only  fault  being  an  ap- 
pearance so  distinguished 
that  the  rest  of  the  party 
were  completely  cast  in 
the  shade.  Our  trial  trip 
was  to  Vallombrosa,  over 
very  muddy  roads.  Maz- 
zini  proved  an  expert. 
From  the  beginning,  how- 
ever, he  showed  himself 
the  possessor  of  a  severe 
case  of  speed  -  mania. 
Curves  were  his  delight 
and  he  invariably  opened 
the  throttle  at  sight  of 
one. 

We  followed  the  right  bank  of  the  Arno,  up-stream, 
to  Pontassieve,  taking  a  short  cut  to  the  left,  just  be- 
yond, instead  of  continuing  on  to  S.  Ellero.  We  began 
to  gain  altitude  at  once  and  had  fine  views,  but  the 
going  was  poor  and  we  were  sorry  we  had  left  the  main 
road.  Up  we  went,  through  olive-orchards  and  vine- 
yards, which  later  gave  place  to  groves  of  gorgeous- 


MAZZINI,  OUR  LIGHTNING 
CONDUCTOR.  " 


Vallombrosa,  Prato,  Pistoja  211 


hued  chestnuts,  chestnuts  of  more  brilliant  foliage  than 
America  can  show.  Latest  and  best  of  all  came  the 
straight,  lofty,  thick-growing  hemlocks,  for  which 
Vallombrosa  is  famous.  Beneath  their  sky-obscuring 
branches  the  earth  looked  purple  in  the  twilight,  save 
where  the  brilliant  green  of  bedded  moss  broke  the 
monotone.  The  trees  rose  tall  on  either  side  of  the 
narrow  road,  the  effect  being  indescribable.  Under  dif- 
ferent conditions,  I  am  sure  the  forest  would  be  awe- 
some; but  the  steady  beat  of  our  engine,  as  it  took  the 
grade,  broke  the  silence  and  made  us  feel  at  home.  We 
reached  the  top  and  drove  into  the  court  of  the  con- 
vent, just  as  a  front  tire  flattened  out.  It  was  our 
first  puncture  of  the  trip. 

Vallombrosa  has  naught  of  interest  to  boast,  save 
that  which  nature  has  given  her.  The  bare  convent 
buildings  now  shelter  a  school  of  forestry.  The 
cheerless  hostelry  provided  us  with  an  excellent  out- 
of-season  lunch.  Soon  Mazzini  appeared,  reporting  the 
tire  trouble  over,  and  we  were  off  again  by  another 
road  down  the  steep  hill  to  Incisa,  on  the  Arno,  with 
views  more  entrancing  than  before.  Running  up  the 
valley  to  Figlino,  we  crossed  the  river  and  spun  over 
the  hills  through  Greve  to  Florence,  arriving  just 
as  the  skies  poured  forth  the  torrents  which,  all  day 
long,  they  had  been  threatening. 

The  next  day,  though  the  rain  continued,  we  decided 
that  it  was  better  to  start  than  to  wait,  as  the  deluge 
seemed  good  for  a  week,  so  we  ploughed  off,  through  the 


212     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

mud,  to  Pistoja.  Prato,  through  which  we  passed, 
had  been  visited  on  a  bright  day  from  Florence.  A  good 
light  is  needful  to  do  justice  to  Fra  Filippo's  fine 
frescoes  in  the  choir  of  the  cathedral,  which  tell  the 
stories  of  the  Baptist  and  St.  Stephen.  These  well- 
known  works  are  no  more  deserving  than  those  in  the 
adjacent  chapel  to  the  right,  attributed  to  Stamina. 
Whoever  the  artist,  he  was  great,  of  a  period  earlier 


NEAR  INCISA  VAL  D'ARNO. 


than  Masaccio,  yet  having  much  in  common  with 
him,  filling  an  unoccupied  niche  in  the  orderly  history 
of  artistic  development.  His  quality  is  no  whit  in- 
ferior to  Masaccio's.  The  Birth  of  the  Virgin  and 
the  Sposalizio  are  truly  hieratic  representations,  painted 
with  great  feeling.  With  a  naive  dignity  he  treats 
the  Burial  of  St.  Stephen.  We  are  shown,  not  the 
original  entombment   of   the  saint,  but  the  second, 


DONATELLO  PULPIT  OF  THE  CATHEDRAL,  PRATO. 


213 


Vallombrosa,  Prato,  Pistoja  215 

when  the  body  was  brought  to  Rome  and  placed  in 
the  same  sarcophagus  with  that  of  St.  Lawrence. 
The  legend  is',  that  when  the  tomb  of  Lawrence  was 
opened,  the  body  lay  to  the  right.  As  the  body  of 
Stephen  was  being  placed  within,  Lawrence  moved 
over  to  the  left,  giving  to  Stephen  the  place  of  honour, 
due  him  as  the  protomartyr.  Lawrence  is,  in  con- 
sequence, known  to  Italians  as  "the  polite  saint." 

Donatello's  open-air  pulpit  on  the  cathedral,  with 
its  dancing  cherubs  weathered  to  a  flatter  relief  than 
those  of  the  Florence  cantoria,  is  splendidly  designed. 
Another  attraction  that  Prato  may  boast  is  a  charming 
frescoed  street-shrine,  by  Filippino,  a  work  of  simplicity 
that  gives  no  token  of  the  decadent  master's  later 
tendency  to  over-adornment. 

Pistoja's  rain-beaten  thoroughfares  were  anything 
but  inviting  to  sightseers,  so  our  visit  was  limited  to 
the  Baptistery,  the  Palazzo  Pretorio,  with  its  fine  court, 
and  the  Duomo.  In  the  latter  is  a  problem-picture 
of  fine  quality,  its  fineness,  indeed,  partly  negativing 
the  attribution  to  Lorenzo  di  Credi.  The  Virgin, 
with  the  Child  on  her  lap,  sits  between  St.  Zenobius, 
in  his  bishop's  robes,  his  mitre  and  crozier,  and  John 
the  Baptist  in  his  camel's-hair  undergarment.  Mr. 
Berenson,  in  Drawings  of  Florentine  Painters,  sets 
the  picture  down  as  an  early  work  by  Lorenzo,  though 
affirming  that  a  part  of  the  figure  of  the  Baptist  was 
painted  by  Verocchio,  Lorenzo's  master  and  a  far 
greater  man.    Morelli  would  add  to  the  share  which 


216     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


Verocchio  had  in  the  picture  and  he,  too,  emphasises 
the  Verocchiesque  rendering  of  the  Baptist's  limbs. 
To  me,  the  Zenobius  is  by  far  the  most  Verocchiesque 


Alinari  photo.  Pistoja. 
VEROCCHIO  AND  LORENZO  DI  CREDI  MADONNA. 


part  of  the  work,  far  and  away  beyond  the  power  of 
Lorenzo  di  Credi.  What  figure  has  he  painted  that 
can  bear  comparison  with  the  Zenobius  in  either  dig- 
nity or  strength?  The  Baptist,  on  the  other  hand,  is 


Vallombrosa,  Prato,  Pistoja  217 

weak,  both  in  type  and  modelling.  Granted  the  close- 
ness of  the  nude  portions  to  Verocchio's  celebrated 
Baptism,  the  forms  here  are  far  closer  to  Lorenzo's 
Fiesole  version  of  the  Baptism  than  they  are  to  the 
original.  The  cathedral's  other  object  of  interest,  the 
tomb  of  Cardinal  Forteguerri,  originally  by  Verocchio, 
has  suffered  barbarous  additions  by  later  hands,  so 
that  our  pleasure  in  it  is  in  good  part  gone. 

On  the  way  out  of  Pistoja  we  passed  the  Ospedale 
del  Ceppo,  with  its  coloured  della  Robbia  frieze,  em- 
blematic of  the  seven  works  of  mercy.  We  lunched  at 
the  Baths  of  Montecatini,  a  summer  place,  gloomy 
enough  in  a  winter  downpour.  Lunch  over,  we  sought 
a  near-by  villa,  owned  by  a  count  with  pictures  to  sell, 
who  proved  a  very  hospitable  gentleman.  But  his 
pictures  were  not  all  that  he  believed  them — and  the 
prices!  Two  hundred  thousand  francs  were  taken  off 
at  one  fell  swoop,  "just  for  the  sake  of  doing  a  little 
business."  More  mud  and  a  bit  of  trouble,  due  to  the 
loss  of  a  bolt,  brought  us  to  Lucca.  Dinner  in  our 
room,  near  a  cosy  fire,  made  us  forget  the  miserable 
weather. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


LUCCA,  PISA,  LEGHORN,  VOLTERRA,  COLLE. 

AT  an  English  grocery  in  Florence  we  had  pro- 
cured some  "Force"  and  at  the  Lucca  hotel 
gave  orders  overnight  to  be  sure  and  have  cream 
for  our  breakfast.    We  had  it,  but  served  boiling  hot! 

nticipation  did  a  lightning  change  into  disappoint- 
ment, but  we  managed  to  cheer  up  and  swallowed  the 
combination. 

Lucca  is  a  most  interesting  place,  with  ancient 
churches  as  fine  as  any  in  Tuscany.  Backward  in  paint- 
ing, she  has  given  us  one  sculptor  of  sterling  merit, 
Matteo  Civitali,  whose  works  are  among  her  chief 
treasures.  The  finest,  a  Virgin  and  Child,  is  in  the 
SS.  Trinita.  Baedeker  certainly  deserves  censure  for 
making  no  mention  of  this,  one  of  the  finest  sculptures 
of  the  Renaissance.  In  Tuscany,  Carmichael's  excellent 
book,  makes  up  for  the  oversight  by  a  sympathetic 
description. 

The  ancient  doorways,  with  their  quaint  sculpture, 
are  the  chief  adornment  of  S.  Maria  Forisportam,  a 
church  dating,  in  good  part,  from  the  time  of  Charle- 
magne.   The  way  from  here  to  San  Frediano  leads 

218 


Lucca,  Pisa,  Leghorn,  Volterra,  Colle  223 


past  the  high,  gothic  Palazzo  Guinigi,  topped  by  a 
tower  picturesquely  crowned  with  a  cluster  of  growing 
trees. 

S.  Frediano,  an  Irishman  who  became  Bishop  of 
Lucca  in  the  sixth  century,  founded  the  church  which 
to-day  bears  his  name.  It  was  rebuilt  in  the  twelfth 
century.  The  mosaic  of  that  period  which  adorns 
the  facade,  a  representation  of  Christ,  throned  in  glory, 
gives  an  effect  that  is  more  novel  than  pleasing.  Seen 
from  the  rear,  with  its  high  campanile,  the  church  is 
much  more  attractive.  Inside,  we  find  pictures  by 
Francia  and  by  his  pupil,  Aspertini,  and  a  sculptured 
altar  by  Jacopo  della  Quercia,  the  great  Sienese  whom 
Bologna  introduced  to  us.  His  most  attractive  work 
is  here  in  Lucca,  a  splendid  tomb  in  which  sleeps  Ilaria 
del  Carretto.  May  she  rest  as  peacefully  as  her  quiet 
and  noble  image  in  Lucca's  cathedral  would  portend. 
Before  reaching  the  cathedral,  one  may  stop  to  admire 
the  curious  facade  decoration  of  S.  Michele,  a  building 
of  which  Ruskin  was  extremely  fond.  Many  and 
strange  are  the  animals,  taken  from  the  "bestiaries," 
whose  images  fill  the  spaces  over  the  porches.  The 
cathedral,  with  similar  decoration,  is  particularly  at- 
tractive for  its  campanile  and  the  fine  arches  of  its 
loggia.  Inside,  we  find  Civitali  everywhere,  at  his 
best,  though,  in  the  Noceto  tomb  and  the  pulpit. 
By  him,  too,  is  the  shrine  erected  to  hold  the  "Volto 
Santo,"  the  miraculous  image  of  Christ  for  which  Lucca 
was,  in  past  time,  famous.    Aspertini,  in  one  of  his 


224     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

San  Frediano  frescoes,  shows  us  the  image  being  drawn 
by  oxen  to  Lucca,  after  its  discovery  in  the  sea. 

Fra  Bartolommeo  has  adorned  the  cathedral  with 
his  finest  work,  an  enthroned  Madonna  with  Stephen 
and  the  Baptist.  In  but  a  slightly  less  degree  than 
Mantegna,  is  the  Frate  unsympathetic.  However 
much  his  drawings  may  attract,  his  paintings  leave 
us  cold.  The  cathedral  picture  and  the  two  master- 
pieces in  the  gallery  fail  to  arouse  the  slightest  feeling 
of  sympathy. 

The  church  of  S.  Romano,  with  the  tomb  of  that  saint 
by  Civitali,  deserves  a  visit.  It  is  adjacent  to  the 
Palazzo  Provinciale,  which  houses  the  picture  gallery. 
Aside  from  the  two  Bartolommeo's  and  a  couple  of 
Bronzino's,  there  is  nothing  of  much  importance.  Of 
interest  was  a  portrait  of  Federico  of  Urbino,  attrib- 
uted to  Baroccio,  a  slightly  inferior  replica  of  a  picture 
which  has  come  into  the  possession  of  the  author. 
Various  reasons  make  the  Baroccio  attribution  doubt- 
ful. In  all  probability  both  pictures,  together  with 
the  earlier  one  in  the  Pitti  Palace,  where  Federico  is 
seen  in  his  cradle,  and  another,  belonging  to  the  author, 
are  by  Vitali,  pupil  of  Baroccio  at  Urbino. 

While  we  were  in  the  gallery,  it  began  to  hail  stren- 
uously. The  ground  soon  became  white.  To  north 
and  south  the  sky  was  perfectly  clear,  while  a  long 
band  of  cloud,  stretching  east  and  west,  made  Lucca 
the  storm  centre.  After  an  hour's  wait,  the  same 
conditions  still  prevailing,  we  determined  to  try  for 


Collection  of  the  A  uthor. 

FEDERICO  OF   URBINO  BY  VITALI. 


225 


Lucca,  Pisa,  Leghorn,  Volterra,  Colle  229 

the  clear  sky  to  the  south.  First  we  had  a  spin  over 
the  boulevard  that  tops  the  ancient  ramparts,  the 
weather  spoiling  the  usually  splendid  view,  and  then 
the  Fiat  ploughed  Pisa-ward  through  a  sea  of  slush. 
After  two  miles  we  suddenly  found  ourselves  in  clear 
sunlight,  with,  to  the  north,  brilliant  views  of  high 
snow-patches  on  the  hills,  where  the  sun  had  broken 
through.     Pisa  soon  came  in  sight,  her  marble  cathe- 


CATHEDRAL  AND  LEANING  TOWER,  PISA. 


dral,  baptistery,  and  leaning  tower  shining  white  in  the 
new-found  sun.  Unequalled  in  their  way,  these  noble 
buildings  that  form  the  city's  heritage  give  the  visitor 
an  ever-recurrent  joy.  It  seemed  odd  to  be  visiting 
such  old  friends  by  automobile. 

The  cathedral,  with  a  facade  that  served  as  a  pro- 
totype to  the  cathedral  and  San  Michele  in  Lucca,  is 
the  earliest  building  of  the  group.    Begun  as  a  thank- 


230     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


offering  for  a  naval  victory  over  the  Saracens  in  1063,  it 
was  fifty  years  in  the  building.    Fire  has  brought 


Siena  Cathedral 

GIOVANNI  PISANO  A  SIBYL. 

some  changes.  The  old  bronze  doors  are  gone,  with 
the  exception  of  that  in  the  south  transept,  which 


Lucca,  Pisa,  Leghorn,  Volterra,  Colle  231 

looks  primitive  enough  to  have  existed  before  the  flood. 

To  Pisa  goes  the  credit  of  bringing  forth  the  artist 
who  ''originated"  the  Renaissance.  Niccolo  Pisano, 
born  some  twenty  years  before  Cimabue,  namely, 
about  1206,  was  drawn  by  admiration  for  an  old  Roman 
sarcophagus  into  an  attempt  to  copy,  though  crudely, 
its  motive  and  workmanship,  thus  giving  a  new  birth 
to  classic  art.  Niccolo's  best  known  work,  his  pulpit, 
is  here  in  Pisa,  in  the  swelling-domed  baptistery  that 
faces  the  cathedral.  The  five  marble  panels,  on  which, 
in  high  relief,  are  depicted  scenes  from  the  life  of 
Christ,  are  remarkable  for  their  advance  over  the  work 
that  immediately  preceded  them.  Giovanni  Pisano, 
son  of  Niccolo,  maker  of  the  pulpit  that  has  been  trans- 
ferred from  the  cathedral  to  the  museum,  was  also  an 
admirable  artist.  His  figure  of  a  sibyl,  on  the  exterior 
of  Siena's  cathedral,  is  fine. 

The  baptistery's  wonderful  echo  of  our  guide's  fine 
tenor  notes — winged  notes  they  were  as  they  soared 
upward  into  the  vault  of  the  dome — held  us  spell- 
bound for  a  time,  after  which  we  went  to  the  "Campo 
Santo,"  the  "  Holy  Ground,"  truly  "holy"  as  the  earth 
included  in  its  precincts  was  brought  from  the  Holy 
Land  at  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century. 
Here  fresco-painter  vied  with  fresco-painter  in  giving 
storied  decoration  to  the  walls.  Orcagna  and  the 
Lorenzetti  are  masters  to  whom  certain  frescoes  of 
the  Triumph  of  Death  and  the  Hermits  of  the  Thebaid 
have  long  been  attributed,  but  modern  criticism  voices 


232     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

a  denial.  Benozzo  Gozzoli  is  here  with  a  series  of  Old 
Testament  stories,  far  less  attractive,  however,  than  as 
we  see  him  in  the  Riccardi  Chapel  or  at  San  Gimignano 
and  Montefalco.  It  is  useless  to  try  to  describe  at 
length  the  various  monuments,  ancient  and  modern, 
with  which  the  Campo  Santo  is  filled.  One  can  wander 
musingly  about  for  a  long  time  and,  coming  again  and 
again,  can  always  find  something  that  was  overlooked 
before.  Our  trip  on  this  occasion  was  rather  hurried. 
We  passed  by  the  Leaning  Tower,  and  went  on  to  the 
church  of  S.  Caterina,  where  Traini,  an  early  Pisan 
painter,  shows  us  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  in  glory.  A 
Madonna  and  Saints  here  by  Albert inelli  is,  according 
to  Berenson,  based  on  a  cartoon  by  Fra  Bartolommeo. 
Nino  Pisano,  a  fourteenth-century  sculptor,  shows  us 
figures  of  Gabriel  and  the  Virgin  which  are  equally 
attractive  with  the  better-known  figures  in  the  museum. 
In  the  seminary  attached  to  the  church  are  several 
pictures  of  interest.  Simone  Martini,  Giotto's  great 
contemporary,  is  represented  by  a  fine  altarpiece,  in 
many  parts,  dated  1320.  Traini,  in  several  panels, 
proves  himself  a  follower  of  Orcagna. 

The  Civic  Museum  contains  a  number  of  very  interest- 
ing things,  best  of  all,  a  Madonna  by  Gentile  da  Fabriano. 
Gentile's  pictures  breathe  forth  an  invigorating  some- 
thing that  is  hard  to  explain.  The  true  lover  of  Italy's 
chaster  art  is  drawn  to  Gentile  and  his  ilk  far  more 
strongly  than  to  a  Titian,  who,  with  all  his  glory,  gives 
way  when  such  as  Gentile  are  in  the  viewing. 


Lucca,  Pisa,  Leghorn,  Volterra,  Colle  233 

We  decided  to  go  on  to  Leghorn  for  the  night,  so  as 
to  be  ahead  of  our  schedule  in  the  morning.  Ap- 
proaching the  Arno,  we  found  the  entire  population 
lined  up  along  the  banks,  watching  to  see  if  the  bridges 
were  capable  of  withstanding  the  flood  of  waters. 
There  had  been  a  cloud-burst  somewhere  upstream 
and  the  river  was  surging  down  in  a  wondrous  manner. 
We  were  glad  to  get  across  in  safety.    The  Leghorn  road 


THE  ARNO  IN  FLOOD  PISA. 


was  an  improvement  on  the  one  from  Lucca  and  the 
thirteen  miles  were  quickly  made.  Long  stretches 
of  wonderful  stone  pines  against  the  lowering  sun  put 
one  more  memory  to  Italy's  credit.  Before  dinner  we 
walked  out  on  the  "Medicean  Mole"  upon  whose  outer 
breakwater  the  waves  beat  high  against  the  redness 
of  the  afterglow. 

Leghorn  is  an  unattractive  seaport,  dirty  and  filled 


234     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

with  a  polyglot  mass  of  inhabitants.  We  were  glad  to 
slip  away  early  the  next  morning.  Siena  was  our  goal, 
with  Volterra  as  a  lunch-station,  and  things  resulted 
in  that  way  but  not  quite  according  to  schedule. 
We  met  good  weather  shortly  after  leaving  Leghorn. 
The  road  ran  along  the  rocky  coast  for  some  twenty 
miles.  Here  and  there  forests  of  tall  pines  ran  down 
to  the  sea.  Just  before  reaching  Cecina,  we  turned 
inland,  through  a  country  where  the  grape  and  olive 
thrive  abundantly.  As  we  came  to  higher  ground 
there  was  less  fertility  and  many  signs  of  past  volcanic 
action.  Some  forty-five  miles  from  Leghorn  as  the 
Fiat  tops  a  rise  on  the  high  speed,  lordly  Volterra 
looms  majestically  into  view  across  the  uplands.  We 
are  all  expectancy,  as  we  make  out  the  battlemented 
lines  of  the  great  fortress.  Eager  to  arrive,  Fate  be- 
trayed us.  We  ran  up  behind  a  horseman  whose  steed 
showed  fright,  so  much  so  that  we  came  to  a  stop  some 
distance  away.  The  horse  pranced  around  in  all  di- 
rections and  finally  backed  into  one  of  our  head- 
lights, breaking  the  glass  and  rather  flattening  things 
out,  spoiling  our  ship-shape  condition.  Mr.  Horse 
immediately  set  sail  and  it  was  some  time  before  we 
passed  him,  closing  incident  number  one.  Incident 
number  two  was  more  serious.  It  occurred  about  two 
miles  from  Volterra  as  we  were  on  the  up-grade.  A 
heavy  cart  ahead  of  us,  going  our  way,  turned  out  to 
the  left  as  we  approached.  Just  as  we  reached  it,  it 
turned  sharply  to  the  right  and — bang!  we  struck  it. 


Lucca,  Pisa,  Leghorn,  Volterra,  Colle  235 


A  nicely  bent  front  axle  was  the  result.  It  took  about 
an  hour  to  get  things  into  workable  condition,  a  num- 
ber of  carters  lending  their  assistance.  Mazzini  showed 
great  ingenuity  in  the  use  of  poles,  whose  leverage 
straightened  the  axle.  Finally  we  were  off  again,  not 
much  the  worse  for  wear,  after  giving  our  thanks  and 
some  coin  of  the  realm  to  our  ten  assistants.  The 
money  went  to  the  most  responsible-looking  man,  to 


ON  THE  WAY  TO  VOLTERRA. 


be  divided  equally.  This  did  n't  please  some  who  had 
worked  hard  while  others  simply  held  a  wheel  or  did 
something  equally  easy.  We  left  them  to  work  it  out 
to  their  own  satisfaction  and  pushed  on  to  Volterra  in 
time  for  some  sightseeing  before  lunch,  which,  how- 
ever, we  took  the  precaution  to  order  beforehand. 

Volterra,  when  Rome  was  still  ruled  by  kings,  was 
one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  twelve  cities  of  the 


236     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Etruscan  confederacy.  Her  ancient  "Pelasgic"  walls 
have  a  circuit  of  over  four  miles.  Her  mighty  fortress, 
massively  mediaeval,  is  one  of  the  most  imposing  build- 
ings in  Europe.  Its  modern  use  as  a  House  of  Cor- 
rection has  closed  it  to  visitors,  so  one  gets  the  best 
impression  of  its  vastness  before  going  into  the  city.  We 
enter  by  the  huge  Etruscan  Porta  all'  Arco  and  go  to  the 
north  end  of  the  height  on  which  Volterra  lies,  a  part  free 


THE  CASTLE  WALL,  VOLTERRA. 


from  buildings,  in  order  to  get  the  splendid  view  in  all 
directions.  Here  we  get  an  opportunity  to  inspect  the 
old  walls  and  may  look  down  into  "  Le  Baize,"  the 
deep  ravine  that  grows  larger,  year  by  year,  as  it  caves 
its  way  into  the  city.  Several  of  the  old  buildings 
have  been  swallowed  up  by  it  and  more  are  threatened. 
The  cathedral,  formerly  of  great  interest,  has  been 
stripped  of  most  of  its  pictures,  which  are  now  in  the 


Lucca,  Pisa,  Leghorn,  Volterra,  Colle  237 

gallery.  The  old  pulpit,  with  its  curious  representation 
of  the  Last  Supper,  showing  Judas  kneeling  at  Jesus' 
feet,  and  the  early  wooden  Deposition  are  worthy 
of  notice.  Mino's  angel  candle-bearers  are  attrac- 
tive. Albertinelli's  Annunciation  is  the  only  good 
picture  left.  Rosso,  Signorelli,  Taddeo  Bartoli,  and 
Ghirlandajo  are  to  be  seen  in  the  gallery,  which  con- 
tains nothing,  however,  of  primary  importance.  The 


SIENESE  CYPRESSES. 


Etruscan  museum  is  most  interesting,  particularly 
for  its  cinerary  urns. 

Leaving  Volterra  by  the  road  that  runs  under  the 
long  line  of  the  citadel,  we  soon  turn  to  the  left  to  the 
church  of  San  Girolamo,  where  Benvenuto  of  Siena 
charms  us  with  a  most  characteristic  Annunciation 
watched  over  by  Michael  and  Catherine.  Here,  too, 
are  fine  terra-cotta  reliefs,  a  St.  Francis  in  Glory  and 


238     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

a  Last  Judgment,  the  former  certainly  and  the  latter 
possibly  by  Andrea  della  Robbia. 

We  went  on  again,  to  be  held  up  almost  immediately 
by  a  puncture,  our  second  since  Turin.  It  was  a  bad 
cut,  necessitating  the  replacing  of  the  shoe,  which  took 
some  time.  We  were  objects  of  interest  to  two  young 
girls,  who,  in  their  felt  hats  (typical  of  the  district), 
stood  knitting  as  they  watched  us.  Finally  we  were 
off  again,  over  bare  hills,  passing  near  a  high  ruined 
tower  that  dominated  the  landscape.  Siena's  near- 
ness was  attested  by  the  "burnt  Siena"  colour  of  the 
earth  in  the  ploughed  orchards  of  olive,  earth  that 
entered  into  a  splendid  colour-scheme  with  the  silvered 
green  of  the  trees  above.  Cypresses,  for  which  the 
Siena  country  is  noted,  sentinelled  the  hilltops.  Be- 
fore reaching  Colle  we  had  a  distant  view  of  many- 
towered  San  Gimignano.  Colle,  with  its  old  wall  and 
narrow,  steep  street,  full  of  children,  did  not  delay 
us  long.  It  is  rapidly  becoming  a  town  of  industrial 
importance.  In  S.  Agostino,  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill,  are  a  Deposition,  by  Ridolfo  Ghirlandajo,  and  a 
Madonna,  by  Taddeo  Bartoli,  the  latter  covered  over 
by  another  picture.  The  upper  half  of  the  Virgin  may 
be  seen  through  a  hole  cut  in  the  outer  picture.  Her 
head  is  hung  with  tinsel  and  cheap  jewelry,  so  that 
one  can  see  nothing  clearly.  Such  vandalism  should 
be  prohibited. 

From  Colle  to  Siena  is  less  than  twenty  miles.  We 
ran  east  till  we  reached  the  main  road  from  Florence, 


/ 


Lucca,  Pisa,  Leghorn,  Volterra,  Colle  239 

turning  south  where  Monteriggione,  on  her  hill,  sits 
behind  the  walls  of  which  Dante  speaks  in  the  Inferno. 
The  road  wound  over  the  hills  and  around  them, 
Mazzini  putting  on  more  speed  than  necessary  at  the 
curves,  due  to  his  desire  to  finish  the  trip  without  lighting 
up.  The  sun  set  and  the  full  moon  rose,  just  as  we 
came  in  sight  of  the  high  cathedral  and  of  the  Mangia, 
noblest  tower  of  them  all! 


CHAPTER  X. 

SIENA,   SAN   GIMIGNANO,   SAN  GALGANO,  MASSA. 

SIENA  has  but  one  rival  in  Italy  as  a  base  for  the 
motorist,  Perugia.  Both  cities  are  ideal  centres 
for  excursions  into  the  surrounding,  art-infested 
country.  The  two  districts,  of  which  each  is  the  respec- 
tive centre,  vary  remarkably  in  topography.  From 
Siena,  we  run  out  along  the  tops  of  the  hills,  bare  hills, 
for  the  most  part,  volcanic  in  their  nature.  We  look 
straight  away  to  great  distances.  From  Perugia  we 
run  through  valleys  and  our  look  is  ever  upward. 
Siena's  art,  subtle  in  its  nature,  differs  somewhat  from 
the  creations  that  give  fame  to  the  school  of  Umbria. 
The  works  of  both  schools  are  filled  with  poetic  and 
spiritual  essence.  Siena  shows  us  this  to  the  higher 
degree,  yielding  to  Umbria,  however,  in  vigour. 

Siena  was  our  headquarters  for  a  comfortable  ten 
days.  Had  the  weather  been  more  propitious,  our 
stay  would  have  been  simply  delightful.  As  it  was, 
we  made  the  best  of  it,  keeping  the  good  days  for  the 
longer  excursions. 

Siena's  cathedral,  with  its  over-decorated  facade 
and  many-striped  tower,  harbours  Pinturicchio's  story 

of  Pope  Pius  II.,  best  known  member  of  that  Piccolo- 

240 


Siena,  San  Gimignano  241 

mini  family,  whose  stemma,  or  coat  of  arms,  five  cres- 
cents laid  on  a  cross,  is  so  much  in  evidence  in  the  city. 
Pinturicchio  proves  himself  past-master  of  decoration, 
producing  here  one  of  the  finest  cycles  of  frescoes  known 
to  the  Renaissance.  At  the  first  glimpse  of  the  young 
^neas,  as  he  sets  forth  on  his  journey  to  Basle,  we  fall 
in  love  with  the  spirited  young  figure  on  the  white 
charger. 

Interesting  as  is  the  cathedral,  we  can  let  our  imagin- 
ation soar  beyond  it  as  we  look  up  at  the  high, 
unfinished  wall,  planned  as  the  facade  of  a  greater  build- 
ing of  which  the  present  cathedral  would  have  been 
but  the  transept;  a  project  defeated  by  the  great  plague 
of  1348.  One  of  the  unfinished  aisles  encloses  the 
"Opera"  of  the  cathedral,  to  which  we  go  to  view 
Duccio's  picture,  that  tells  us  the  Bible  story  in  a 
manner  that  shows  art  just  a-tiptoe  to  say  farewell  to 
Byzantine  tradition. 

Siena  is  too  well-known  to  receive  any  detailed  de- 
scription here.  Her  attractiveness  is  not  so  proclaimed 
as  that  of  Florence,  yet  it  is  there,  it  is  insidious,  and 
it  grows  with  time.  Nothing  in  Florence  can  compare 
with  the  wondrous  beauty  of  a  Siena  sunset  seen  over 
numberless  ridges  of  distant  hills,  with  San  Domenico 
and  the  broken  line  of  the  cathedral  framing  the  pic- 
ture to  right  and  left.  Such  a  view  we  had  from  our 
window.  And  our  window  was  not  the  only  window. 
Siena's  view,  from  her  elevated  position,  stretches  in 

every  direction.    Perhaps  the  most  lovely  was  to  be 

16 


242     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


had  from  the  house  of  a  friend,  a  view  that  had  the 
Mangia  as  the  glory  of  its  foreground  and  then  swept 


Lombardi  photo.  Siena  Library. 

PINTURICCHIO  /ENEAS  SILVIUS  DEPARTS  FOR  BASLE. 


off  into  the  south  to  cloud-topped  Monte  Amiata,  whose 
outline  is  the  chief  landmark  of  southern  Tuscany. 


Siena,  San  Gimignano  243 

Siena's  old  walls,  ivy-covered,  are  an  attraction  that 
the  visitor  should  not  overlook.    We  may  see  them 


THE  OLD  WALL,  SIENA. 


best  by  passing  through  a  gateway  to  the  right  of  the 
oratory  of  San  Bernardino,  coming  out  on  an  open 


244     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


slope,  whose  green  grass  and  groves  of  olive  bring  us 
at  once  from  the  city  to  the  country.  A  furlong  distant, 
along  the  hillside,  runs  the  high  wall  that  joins  the 
Porta  Ovile  to  the  Porta  Pispini.  In  earlier  days, 
when  Siena's  population  was  greater,  no  doubt  the  open 
space  was  filled  with  buildings.  To-day,  however,  it 
is  a  delightful  spot  in  which  to  linger  with  a  book. 

The  picture  gallery  is  filled  with  the  ever-attractive 
works  of  Sienese  artists,  difficult  at  first  to  separate, 
one  from  the  other,  as  their  most  obvious  quality  is  one 
they  have  in  common,  namely,  their  spirit.  Further 
acquaintance  opens  our  eyes  and  Matteo,  Neroccio, 
Benvenuto,  Sano,  and  the  rest  become  distinguishable. 
Here  we  learn  to  know  Sassetta,  that  most  ethereal  of 
artists,  whose  small  panel  at  Chantilly,  long  attributed 
to  Sano,  is  one  of  the  most  charming  of  works.  I 
quote  from  an  article  by  Mr.  Berenson  in  the  Burlington 
Magazine,  for  September,  1903: 

"The  legend  recounts  how  one  day  Francis  was  journeying 
with  his  physician  on  foot  from  Rieti  to  Siena.  As  they  were 
drawing  near  the  goal  of  their  journey  he  was  encountered  by 
three  maiden  forms  in  poor  raiment  who  saluted  him  with  the 
words,  'Welcome,  Lady  Poverty,'  and  suddenly  disappeared. 

.  .  The  maidens  salute  him  archly,  as  maidens  have  saluted 
many  an  enamoured  knight,  with  the  name  of  his  mistress.  .  .  . 
Sassetta  must  have  seen  at  once  what  this  encounter  lacked 
to  give  it  completeness  and  how  self-evident  and  hence  perfect 
an  allegory  it  could  thus  become.  Now  this  is  what  he  made  of 
it:  In  the  foreground  of  a  spacious  plain,  three  maidens  stand 
shoulder  to  shoulder.  White  is  the  robe  of  the  first,  greyish 
brown  of  the. second,  rose  red  of  the  last.  The  one  in  brown  is 
barefooted  and  ragged,  but  it  is  on  her  hand  that  the  ardent 


Collection  of  the  Author. 
SASSETTA  SAINT  MARTIN  GIVING  ALMS. 


247 


Collection  of  the  Author. 
SASSETTA  SAINT  MARTIN  ENTERS  A  MONASTERY. 


249 


Siena,  San  Gimignano  255 

saint,  with  an  eager  bend  of  his  body,  bestows  his  ring.  Then 
swiftly  they  take  flight,  and  ere  they  disappear  in  the  high 
heavens  over  the  celestially  pure  horizon  of  Monte  Amiata  they 
display  symbols  which  reveal  them  as  Poverty,  Chastity,  and 
Obedience.  And  when  last  we  see  them  floating  away  in  the 
pure  ether,  Lady  Poverty  looks  back  lovingly  on  Francis.  No 
one  who  can  appreciate  the  idyllic,  tender,  rapturous  atmosphere 
of  the  'Flowerets'  but  must  feel  that  here  at  last  he  breathes  the 
same  air. " 

The  author  has  recently  been  fortunate  enough 
to  become  possessor  of  two  early  works  by  Sassetta, 
representing  scenes  from  the  life  of  St.  Martin.  Years 
ago  these  pictures  passed  from  the  Squarcialupi  collec- 
tion at  Macerata  into  that  of  the  late  Dr.  Nevin  in 
Rome. 

The  Palazzo  Pubblico,  with  its  tower,  the  Mangia, 
is  an  endless  delight.  The  latter,  always  beautiful, 
was  perhaps  most  wondrous  as  we  viewed  it  in  the 
light  of  the  full  moon,  through  one  of  the  narrow  streets 
leading  down  into  the  Piazza  del  Campo.  Here  is 
Turino's  column  of  the  she-wolf,  reminding  us  that 
Remus  was  to  Siena  what  Romulus  was  to  Rome. 
Inside  the  Palazzo,  generations  of  Sienese  artists  have 
vied  in  decorative  effort.  Simone  Martini  and  Am- 
brogio  Lorenzetti  take  the  palm  from  the  later  Becca- 
fumi  and  Sodoma.  Sodoma,  who  has  received  large 
measure  of  both  praise  and  censure,  is  an  artist  whom 
it  is  difficult  to  judge  without  prejudice.  Endowed 
with  great  talent,  he  seldom  put  forth  his  best  effort. 
We  may  pick  a  figure  here  or  there,  such  as  the  Eve 
in  the  Academy,  that  is  hard  to  rival,  but,  in  general, 


256     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

his  work  lacks  quality  and  shows  evidence  of  a  too-ready 
surrender  to  the  decadent  influences  of  the  time.  San 
Domenico  and  the  oratory  of  San  Bernardino  contain 
his  best  works.  One  should  not  forget  to  see  Matteo's 
fine  picture  in  the  church  of  the  Madonna  of  the  Snows, 
with  its  little  angels  who  make  snowballs. 

Our  first  excursion  was  to  San  Gimignano  and  we 
enjoyed  it  thoroughly.      We  went  northward,  run- 


THE  TOWERS  OF  SAN  GIMIGNANO. 

ning  up  the  steep  hill  for  a  few  interesting  minutes  at 
Monteriggione ;  then  on  to  Colle  and  beyond  on  a  road 
that  was  new  to  us,  till  we  came  in  sight  of  the  town  with 
the  many  towers.  San  Gimignano,  on  its  hilltop,  is 
the  most  picturesque  of  Italian  cities.  The  mediaeval 
is  in  evidence  at  all  points.  Walls,  towers,  and  the  old 
citadel,  the  Rocca,  all  date  back  to  the  time  when 
Dante  came  here  as  ambassador  of  Florence.  From 


1 


Siena,  San  Gimignano 


259 


the  Rocca,  with  its  tangled  garden,  one  gets  a  splendid 
view.  A  youngster  of  twelve,  "Siro  Burgassi,  Guida 
Autorizzato,"  as  his  card  told  us,  was  our  talkative 
and  enterprising  escort. 

San  Gimignano 's  town-hall  contains  many  interesting 
things  but  by  far  the  finest  is  Lippo  Memmi's  great 
enthroned  Madonna  and  Saints,  a  work  that  dates 
back  to  13 1 7,  contemporary  with  Giotto.  Less  able 
than  Simone  Martini,  whose  assistant  he  was,  Lippo 
nevertheless  holds  us  by  his  power  to  put  in  his  pic- 
tures that  spiritual  essence  which  is  the  chief  quality 
of  Siena's  art.  Somewhat  the  same  feeling  exists 
among  the  Sienese  to-day.  What  a  hue  and  cry  was 
raised  over  the  recent  theft  of  Lippo 's  Servi  Madonna! 
The  Sienese  were  inconsolable.  Their  joy  at  the  mys- 
terious return  of  the  picture  was  such  that  the  more 
naive  believed  it  a  miracle. 

San  Gimignano  was  the  birthplace  of  Ghirlandajo's 
assistant,  Bastiano  Mainardi,  and  the  town-hall  and 
churches  contain  many  of  his  works.  Usually  very 
dry,  his  pictures  at  times  are  attractive,  the  Berlin 
gallery  possessing  several  excellent  examples.  Mr. 
Johnson,  of  Philadelphia,  has  a  fine  Madonna  by  him, 
formerly  in  the  Mansi  Collection  at  Lucca.  The  cathe- 
dral contains,  in  the  chapel  dedicated  to  Santa  Fina  of 
San  Gimignano,  two  frescoes  by  Ghirlandajo,  direct 
and  simple  in  telling  the  story  of  the  young  saint. 
Some  of  the  heads  are  fine,  precursors  of  later  work 
that  we  have  seen  in  Florence. 


260     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


Before  our  pilgrimage  to  San  Gimignano's  chief 
works  of  art,  we  go  beyond  the  walls,  on  the  north 
side  of  the  town,  part  way  down  the  hill  to  where  a 
great  arched  fountain,  similar  to  the  Fonte  Branda  at 


Alinari  photo.  San  Gimignano. 

BENOZZO  GOZZOLI  ST.  AUGUSTINE  TEACHING  IN  ROME. 

Siena,  serves  as  the  headquarters  of  the  washerwomen. 
An  interesting  place  it  is  with  its  green  moss  and  clear, 
bubbling  water.  We  go  back  again  through  the  gate, 
making  note  of  the  carved  ladder,  stemma  of  the  Inno- 


Siena,  San  Gimignano 


261 


centi,  with  which  it  is  decorated,  an  emblem  seen  also 
on  the  fountain  of  the  Piazza.  S.  Agostino,  a  church 
with  a  whitewashed  interior,  whose  choir  Benozzo 
Gozzoli  has  filled  with  the  frescoed  story  of  St.  Augus- 
tine, lies  near  the  gate.  We  liked  best  the  scene  where 
the  young  saint  is  in  Rome,  teaching  rhetoric.  A 
fine,  quiet  young  man  he 
is  as  he  sits,  facing  us,  be- 
hind his  desk.  Benozzo's 
love  for  genre  is  shown  by 
the  little  dog  who  sedately 
occupies  the  centre  of  the 
foreground,  a  doggie  of  a 
breed  most  common  to- 
day in  central  Italy.  The 
frescoes,  as  a  whole,  are 
not  so  satisfactory  as 
Benozzo's  earlier  works 
at  Montefalco.  They  lack 
a  bit  in  spirit  and  have 
suffered  much  from  re- 
painting. Outside  the 
church  we  snapped  a 
laughing  girl  holding  in 

her  arms  her  small  brother,  who  wore  swaddling 
clothes,  so  foreign  to  our  American  eyes.  Here,  too, 
was  an  old  crone,  a  wrinkled  Clotho,  working  indus- 
triously at  her  spinning.  A  soldo  or  two  and  we  went 
on  our  way  followed  by  her  blessing. 


A  SAN  GIMIGNANO  BABY. 


262     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

After  luncheon,  we  took  a  bit  longer  road,  by  Pog- 
gibonsi,  to  Siena,  passing  on  the  way  many  of  the  re- 
markable grey  oxen,  with  tremendous  horns,  seen  only 
in  south-western  Tuscany.    One  unruly  fellow  crashed 


CLOTHO  OF  SAN  GIMIGNANO. 


his  head  against  the  side  of  the  tonneau  as  we  sped 
past,  but  did  no  particular  damage,  except  to  his  own 
feelings. 

We  had  taken  with  us  to  San  Gimignano  a  Sienese 
friend,  who  was  without  experience  in  automobiling. 


/ 


Siena,  San  Gimignano  263 

When  we  got  back  we  had  a  good  laugh  over  the 
fact  that  she  had  left  written  instructions  as  to  what 
should  be  done,  in  case  she  did  not  return  alive. 


SIENESE  OXEN. 


Her  serving-maids  were  wild  with  joy  when  she  came 
back  safely. 

Our  next  trip  took  us  out  of  Siena  by  the  Porta  San 


264     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Marco.  Down  the  hill  we  went  and  then  up  again 
under  trie  old  Benedictine  Abbey  of  S.  Eugenio.  We 
passed  through  the  town  of  Rosia  and  then  along  a  fairly 
level  road  until,  twenty  miles  from  Siena,  the  church 
of  San  Galgano  came  into  view  on  the  top  of  its  hill.  The 
ruined  abbey  of  the  same  name  lies  near  the  foot  of  the 
hill.  We  went  first  up  to  the  church,  eager  to  see 
Ambrogio  Lorenzetti's  ruined  frescoes.  The  Virgin 
of  the  Annunciation  is  almost  completely  gone  but  the 
figure  of  Gabriel,  wreck  though  it  is,  is  one  of  the  finest 
in  Sienese  art,  far  superior  to  the  one  in  Ambrogio 's 
Siena  Academy  picture  of  1344.  There  is  a  noble 
largeness  about  the  conception  that  makes  one  more 
an  admirer  of  Ambrogio  than  ever.  Above  the  An- 
nunciation, in  a  lunette,  is  a  Madonna  with  Saints. 
Eve,  clothed  in  white,  stands  at  the  foot  of  the  throne, 
reminding  one  of  the  Pax  of  the  Palazzo  Pubblico. 
The  lunette  to  the  left  tells  the  story  of  San  Galgano, 
who  presents  his  sword,  embedded  in  the  rock,  to 
Michael.  The  story  is  one  infrequently  portrayed  in 
Italian  art.  In  the  choir  chapel  nearest  the  sacristy, 
in  Santa  Croce,  Florence,  we  see  another  portion  of  the 
story  frescoed  by  some  great  contemporary  of  Giotto, 
a  powerful  master,  who,  according  to  Mr.  William 
Rankin,  also  painted  the  figures  around  the  sacristy 
windows  in  the  Carmine,  Florence. 

San  Galgano 's  ruined  abbey  takes  one  back  in  thought 
to  Melrose  or  Holyrood.  One  feels  that  its  gothic  nave 
is  foreign  to  Italian  soil.    Cistercian  in  its  foundation, 


San  Galgano,  Massa  267 

it  dates  from  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century. 
We  stayed  as  long  as  our  time  permitted  and  then  sped 


THE  ABBEY  OF  SAN  GALGANO. 

on  over  the  hills,  through  a  mining  district,  rich  in 
copper.     Several  smelters  gave  a  business-like  air  to 


268     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


the  landscape.  We  had  a  bit  of  carburetor  trouble, 
due  to  dirty  gasoline,  and  not  long  afterward  were 


THE  ABBEY  OF  SAN  GALGANO. 

mired  in  a  ditch  into  which  we  had  turned  to  let  a 
loaded  team  pass.     The  going  looked  all  right,  but  it 


San  Galgano,  Massa  269 

was  awful.  A  few  minutes'  hard  work  in  the  employ- 
ment of  pine  branches  to  furnish  traction  sufficed  to 
get  us  out.  We  reached  Massa  Marittima  in  time  for 
lunch. 

The  facade  of  Massa's  cathedral,  with  high  half- 
columns  in  the  lower  story  and  long  slender  ones  above, 
is  interesting.  The  interior  contains  a  delicately  fine 
and  graceful  Madonna,  one  of  the  best  works  of  Segna. 
A  steep  street  took  us  to  the  upper  part  of  the  town, 
where  the  school  is  situated.  We  went  inside  and  had 
a  talk  with  the  schoolmaster,  in  whose  care  is  a  pic- 
ture by  Ambrogio  Lorenzetti,  a  Madonna  and  Saints, 
with  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity.  Faith  has  a  sweet 
lace  and  a  charmingly  arranged  veil.  The  four  panels 
into  which  the  picture  is  divided  were  formerly  used 
as  an  ash-bin  and,  in  consequence,  the  condition  of  the 
work  is  bad.  A  miserable  new  and  inappropriate 
frame  makes  the  art-lover  deplore  the  refusal  of  the 
authorities  to  accept  a  careful  restoration  and  a  better 
frame,  recently  offered. 

Leaving  Massa,  we  ran  south  over  the  hilltops,  get- 
ting a  view  of  the  sea  and  of  Elba.  Our  destination  was 
Grosseto  but  we  had  to  give  it  up.  It  began  to  rain 
slightly  and  got  worse  so  gradually  that  we  didn't 
trouble  to  put  up  the  top.  We  came  to  two  streams 
whose  bridges  were  down,  but,  nothing  daunted,  the 
good  Fiat  took  them  on  the  run.  Grosseto  appeared 
dimly  in  the  distance,  just  as  we  decided  to  take  a  road 
to  the  left,  which  tended  in  the  direction  of  Siena. 


270     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

That  sixty  miles,  in  a  downpour  that  got  worse  every 
minute,  will  long  be  remembered.  We  went  through 
high-lying  Monte  Massi,  near  which,  across  a  deep 
gorge,  we  had  a  wondrous  view  of  a  town  perched 
high  up  on  the  top  of  a  ridge.  When  we  reached  the  hotel 
we  had  literally  to  hang  ourselves  up  to  dry. 

At  nine  o'clock  we  heard  the  curfew  ring  from  the 
Mangia,  two  hundred  and  fifty  strokes  on  the  second 
bell.  In  summer,  curfew  is  an  hour  later.  The  big 
bell  of  the  Mangia,  the  war  bell,  is  heard  only  on  holi- 
days, when  its  deep-toned  voice  makes  the  whole 
town  vibrate. 


CHAPTER  XL 


MONTE    OLIVETO,    MONTALCINO,    SAN    QUIRICO,  PIENZA, 
MONTEPULCIANO,  CITTA  DELLA  PIEVE. 

*T"^HE  next  day  was  clear.    After  an  early  lunch, 


with  a  pair  of  new  "  Samsons  "  on  the  rear  wheels, 


we  set  out  through  the  Porta  Romana.  In 
Buonconvento,  our  first  stop,  the  church  of  Sts.  Peter 
and  Paul  contains  examples  of  Sano,  Matteo,  and 
Pacchiarotto.  We  were  hardly  started  again  when 
some  rascal  indulged  in  stone-throwing,  which  nearly 
proved  calamitous.  We  ran  back  and  did  some  pretty 
vigorous  talking,  which  did  not  result  in  our  finding  the 
miscreant.  We  felt  very  much  abused,  as  we  were  al- 
ways careful  to  be  considerate  of  other  users  of  the 
road  and  to  go  slowly  through  the  villages.  From 
Buonconvento  we  turned  to  the  left  on  an  up-grade, 
reaching  before  long  the  monastery  of  Monte  Oliveto 
Maggiore,  which  lies  high  up  among  the  hills.  One 
of  the  white-robed  Benedictine  brothers,  courteous 
and  hospitable,  acted  as  our  guide.  Most  of  our  time 
we  spent  in  the  cloisters,  where  Signorelli  and  Sodoma 
painted  the  story  of  Benedict.  Signorelli 's  serious- 
ness brings  Sodoma's  laxity  into  strong  contrast. 
Taken  as  a  whole,  the  frescoes  are  disappointing. 


272      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

We  returned  to  Siena  by  Chiusuri  and  Asciano, 
travelling  along  the  tops  of  the  hills  a  great  part  of  the 
time.  The  uplands  are  barren  but  picturesque,  with 
their  long  sweeps  of  white  road,  their  wide-spread  view, 
and  the  frequent  flocks  of  sheep.  From  Chiusuri  we 
saw  snow- topped  mountains,  far  back  of  Vallombrosa. 
Asciano's  chief  picture,  in  the  Collegiata,  is  by  Sassetta. 
It  tells  the  story  of  the  Virgin's  life.    We  never  passed 


SHEEP  NEAR  SIENA. 


through  Asciano  without  again  subjecting  ourselves 
to  its  charm.  We  approached  Siena  over  the  battle- 
field of  Monte  Aperto,  where  the  Sienese,  in  1260,  won 
their  famous  and  bloody  victory  over  the  Florentines. 
Scattered  over  the  plain  are  innumerable  conical  hill- 
ocks, perhaps  forty  feet  in  height,  strange,  clayey 
mounds  that  are  probably  of  volcanic  origin. 

A  shorter  trip  was  to  the  chateau  of  Belcaro,  with 


Monte  Oliveto,  Montalcino,  San  Ouirico  273 


its  wondrous  view  of  Siena  and  the  surrounding  coun- 
try. Baldassare  Peruzzi  was  here  both  architect  and 
decorator.  On  the  three  sides  where  Belcaro's  hill 
falls  rapidly  away,  the  battlements  stand  level  with 
the  tops  of  the  tall  holm-oaks  which  grow  so  thickly 
that  the  ground  below  is  invisible.  From  Belcaro 
we  went  again  to  Rosia  and  then  north,  through  a 
gorge,  to  Colle  and  home  again.    Another  excursion 


VOLCANIC  MOUNDS  NEAR  SIENA. 

was  to  the  Franciscan  convent  of  the  Osservanza, 
founded  by  Siena's  famous  saint,  Bernardino.  Sassetta 
has  here  a  fine  Madonna,  with  Ambrose  and  Jerome. 
Andrea  della  Robbia's  Coronation  is  one  of  the  best 
works  of  the  master,  who  at  times  almost  equalled 
the  great  Luca  himself.  It  is  hard  to  mention  any- 
thing that  much  surpasses  his  Francis  and  Dominic  of 

the  Loggia  di  San  Paolo,  Florence. 

18 


274     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


Rain  again,  and  then  a  fine  day  which  took  us  out 
to  S.  Eugenio,  where  we  followed  the  left  fork  of  the 
road,  past  the  Villa  Bonsignori,  with  its  clipped  cy- 
presses, past  Pieve  di  Corsano,  with  a  small  Madonna 
by  Matteo;  on,  under  high-lying  Murlo,  to  Bibbiano, 
whose  church  contains  a  fine  Madonna,  with  Jerome 
and  the  Baptist,  by  Andrea  del  Brescianino.  So  far 
we  had  avoided  the  main  roads  on  account  of  the 


ENTRANCE,  VILLA  BONSIGNORI,  NEAR  SIENA. 

mud  and  the  many  ox-carts.  Running  down  to 
Buonconvento,  we  turned  south  and  made  for  Montal- 
cino,  visible  high  up  in  the  distance.  A  few  kilometres, 
part  of  the  way  through  a  small-sized  hail-storm,  and 
we  swung  up  the  turn  that  brought  us  to  the  inter- 
esting old  town.  We  first  ran  through  the  town  and 
out  again,  to  the  north  and  west,  in  order  to  get  the 
magnificent  view  which  takes  the  eye  back  to  Siena 


Monte  Oliveto,  Montalcino,  San  Quirico  275 

and  far  beyond.  How  often  must  that  band  of  brave 
Sienese  who,  unable  to  endure  the  rule  of  the  conquering 
Florentine,  Duke  Cosimo,  came  and  dwelt  in  Montalcino, 

I  have  looked  with  longing  back  to  their  beloved  city! 

I  We  should  honour  those  would-be  preservers  of  the 
Sienese  republic. 

The  museum  contains  several  pictures  of  interest  by 
Bartolo  di  Fredi,  Taddeo  Bartoli  (whose  best  works 
are  in  the  Perugia  gallery) ,  and  Girolamo  di  Benvenuto. 
The  day  was  chilly.  Coming  out  into  the  street  we 
passed  an  old  crone,  who  carried,  to  warm  her  hands,  a 
beautiful  brass  scaldino,  filled  with  glowing  charcoal.  In 
spite  of  her  very  apparent  poverty,  the  poor  old  creature 
could  not  be  induced  to  part  with  her  treasure,  even 
for  a  fabulous  offer  and  another  scaldino,  thrown  in. 
Though  disappointed,  we  were  glad  to  have  a  contra- 
diction to  our  American  idea  that  money  can  buy 
everything. 

We  were  soon  enjoying  a  hearty  lunch  of  pork  chops, 
sausages,  and  polenta,  with  "kisses,"  a  specialty  of  the 
landlady,  for  dessert.  They  were  fine  and  we  took 
some  back  with  us.  Twenty  miles  to  the  south  of 
Montalcino,  on  the  high  slope  of  Monte  Amiata,  lies  the 
abbey  of  Sant'  Antimo,  a  disused  eleventh-century 
building  of  a  great  deal  of  interest.  Of  a  severe  style, 
it  reminded  us  of  many  early  Lombard  churches.  We 
had  some  excitement  in  making  the  last  quarter-mile. 
The  side  road,  onto  which  we  had  turned,  was  so 
gullied  and  dangerous  that  we  wanted  to  walk,  fearing 


276     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

an  accident  in  that  out-of  the- way  place,  but  Mazzini 
insisted  that  he  could  make  it  and  make  it  he  did, 
gullies  or  no  gullies.  In  spite  of  our  success,  it  was  a 
foolish  undertaking. 

The  founder  of  Sant'  Antimo  must  have  had  a  love 
for  the  beauty  of  nature.  If  November  could  give  us 
such  views  of  Monte  Amiata  and  the  countryside, 
springtime  must  make  riot  of  beauty.  A  fine  way 
back  to  Siena  was  the  one  we  took,  by  Torrenieri  and 
San  Giovanni  d'  Asso,  an  unfrequented  road  in  splendid 
condition,  where,  for  miles,  we  flew  along  at  top  speed. 
From  Asciano  on,  however,  we  had  to  slow  up,  but 
reached  Siena  before  dark,  after  what  we  agreed  to  be 
one  of  the  best  days  of  the  trip. 

At  another  time  we  had  an  amusing  experience,  due 
to  the  fact  that  a  kindly  gentleman,  who  consented  to 
take  us  to  a  villa  near  Siena,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  a 
picture,  was  mortally  afraid  of  going  fast.  Of  course 
Mazzini  was  not  long  in  becoming  acquainted  with  the 
fact,  and  it  made  him  even  worse  than  usual.  Curves 
were  taken  on  two  wheels,  while  our  Italian  friend  pro- 
tested in  vain.  It  was  mean  of  us,  but  we  couldn't 
help  enjoying  it.  The  joke  lay  in  the  sequel.  The 
gentleman  compared  notes  with  the  signora  who  had 
been  with  us  to  San  Gimignano.  "Did  you  go  around 
such  and  such  a  curve?  Wasn't  it  awful?  I  crossed 
myself  there!  And  that  other  curve  in  the  valley? 
There  I  crossed  myself  twice !  But  I  never  gave  my  fear 
away.    In  the  very  worst  place,  I  told  a  funny  story ! ' ' 


Monte  Oliveto,  Montalcino,  San  Quirico  279 


Nature  looked  like  tears  as  we  bade  Siena  good-bye. 
Hopeful  of  improvement,  we  took  the  chance,  which 
proved  a  lucky  one,  that  the  rain  would  hold  off.  It 
was  a  familiar  road  that  led  through  Buonconvento  to 
Torrenieri,  where  we  crossed  the  railway.  Then  we 
gradually  ascended  to  a 
higher  level,  twenty-seven 
miles  from  Siena  reach- 
ing San  Quirico  and  its 
little  church,  whose  exter- 
ior, with  its  queer  portals, 
takes  one  back  to  an  early 
date.  Inside,  the  barbar- 
ous hand  of  the  renovator 
has  taken  away  the  early 
charm,  the  last  vestige  of 
which  is  visible  in  Sano  di 
Pietro's  polyp tych.  Some 
six  miles  more  and  we  are 
at  Pienza,  birthplace  of 
JEneas  Silvius  Piccolo- 
mini,  with  whom  we 
"  made  friends ' '  in  Siena's 

library.  He  was  born  here  at  a  time  when  the  town  was 
known  as  Corsignano.  When  he  became  Pope  Pius  II., 
the  place  was  re-named  in  his  honour.  Still,  to-day,  the 
Piccolomini  lord  it  over  the  town,  whose  citizens  are 
loyal  to  the  old  feudal  traditions.  Through  the  courtesy 
of  the  present  head  of  the  family,  we  were  enabled 


A  PORTAL  SAN  QUIRICO. 


280     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

to  go  through  the  old  palazzo,  built  for  Pius  II.,  by 
Rossellino,  of  Florence,  and  the  young  Francesco  di 
Giorgio,  of  Siena.  It  is  a  fine  and  dignified  build- 
ing, worthy  of  its  founder.  The  columned  gallery 
in  the  rear  of  the  second  story  (American  notation) 
commands  a  splendid  view  over  a  wide  stretch 
of  country.  Below  is  a  fine  tennis-court.  The  Italian 
has  recently  conceived  a  great  love  for  athletic  sports. 
He  is  active  and  persevering  and  seems  bound  to  derive 
great  benefit  from  the  idea,  imported  by  the  English, 
of  whom  he  is  a  great  admirer. 

The  cathedral  is  contemporary  with  the  palace.  It 
contains  pictures  by  Sano,  Matteo,  and  Vecchietta.  The 
last,  a  pupil  of  Taddeo  Bartoli,  shows  us  the  Madonna 
caught  up  heavenwards  by  a  glory  of  singing  angels. 
The  most  important  picture  in  the  museum  is  a 
Madonna  del  Soccorso  by  Bartolo  di  Fredi,  a  Sienese, 
born  during  the  last  years  of  Duccio's  life,  other  works 
by  whom  we  have  seen  in  the  galleries  of  Montalcino 
and  Siena.  A  piviale,  or  cope,  similar  to  the  celebrated 
one  stolen  from  Ascoli,  sold  to  Mr.  Morgan,  and  later  re- 
turned by  him,  may  be  seen  here,  together  with  numer- 
ous relics  of  Popes  Pius  II.  and  Pius  III.,  the  latter 
a  Piccolomini  who  came  to  the  chair  of  St.  Peter  some 
fifty  years  after  his  greater  relative  had  quitted  it. 

While  we  were  having  lunch  a  strong  sirocco  came 
puffing  up  from  the  south  in  great  dust- moving  gusts. 
Rain  seemed  imminent,  so  we  hurried  on  to  Montepul- 
ciano,  ten  miles  distant.    Before  going  up  into  the 


Pienza,  Montepulciano,  Citta  della  Pieve  283 

town,  we  stopped  at  the  church  of  San  Biagio,  a  well- 
known  work  of  Antonio  San  Gallo.  To  an  architect, 
the  building  is  of  interest,  but  its  neo-classic  absence  of 
sympathetic  qualities  leaves  one  cold. 

The  eastern  ramparts  of  Montepulciano  afford  a 
magnificent  prospect  over  the  broad  Val  di  Chiana, 
with  the  lakes  of  Montepulciano,  Chiusi,  and  Trasi- 
mene.  The  day  was  not  clear  enough  to  do  full  justice 
to  the  view,  the  mountains  in  the  distance  being  indis- 
tinct.   Yet,  for  all  that,  it  was  a  splendid  outlook. 

Montepulciano  gives  her  name  to  Angelo  Ambrogini, 
known  to  us  as  Politian,  brilliant  exponent  of  the  liter- 
ary art  at  the  court  of  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent.  He 
was  born  here  in  1454.  Michelozzo's  finest  work,  the 
tomb  of  Aragazzi,  papal  secretary  under  Pope  Martin 
V.,  has  been  broken  into  parts  which  are  now  scattered 
around  the  cathedral.  Viewing  Aragazzi 's  recumbent 
figure,  peaceful  and  simple,  yet  strong,  one  feels  that 
Donatello  must  have  aided  his  pupil  in  the  work.  It 
surpasses  all  else  that  Michelozzo  has  left.  The  cathe- 
dral contains  also  a  Taddeo  Bartoli  polyptych,  set 
high  up  over  the  main  altar,  that  well  repays  the  climb 
necessary  to  a  good  view. 

Several  works  of  the  Della  Robbia  school  give  a  pleas- 
ing tone  to  the  anteroom  of  the  museum.  Of  the  pic- 
tures there,  some  are  very  bad.  The  Adoration  of  the 
Christ-child,  attributed  to  Benvenuto  of  Siena,  is  un- 
doubtedly by  Girolamo,  his  pupil.  The  M adonna  as- 
cribed to  Pacchia  is  tagged  by  Mr.  Berenson  with  the 


284     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

name  of  that  Capponi-Carli  Raphael  whom  he  first 
differentiated  from  Raffaelino  del  Garbo. 

From  Montepulciano  we  ran  along  high  uplands, 
covered  with  fine  olives  and  sulphurously  scented  by 
occasional  boiling  springs,  to  Sarteano,  whose  old 
castle  reigns  undisputed  as  the  chief  feature  of  a  wide 
landscape.  The  higher-lying  of  the  two  churches  was 
crowded.  Mass  was  being  said,  so  we  made  no  at- 
tempt at  sightseeing,  missing  a  picture  by  Pacchia. 
In  the  lower  church  we  found  an  Annunciation,  by 
Beccafumi,  whose  fine  chiaroscuro  should  be  noted. 
A  Madonna  and  Saints  here,  by  a  certain  Andrea  di 
Niccolo,  who  was  probably  a  pupil  of  Benvenuto  di 
Giovanni,  is  a  very  decorative  work,  exhibited  at  Siena 
in  1904. 

Running  down-hill  for  five  miles,  we  passed  under 
the  walls  of  Chiusi,  that  Clusium  of  older  days  that 
had  Lars  Porsenna  as  chieftain,  under  the  Etruscan 
banners.  Macaulay's  Lays  jogged  in  our  mem- 
ories as  we  sped  by.  We  ran  upward  again  to  Citta 
della  Pieve,  town  of  Perugino  and  also  of  Mazzini,  our 
"Lightning  Conductor,"  who  had  not  visited  his  boy- 
hood home  since  he  was  in  knee-breeches.  True  to  our 
artistic  inclinations  we  sought  the  Hotel  Vannucci, 
Vannucci  being  Perugino 's  family  name.  We  found  it 
altogether  unprepared  for  the  reception  of  guests,  winter 
rarely  bringing  overnight  visitors  to  the  small  town. 
Mazzini  guaranteed  comfort,  should  we  put  up  at  the 
Falcone,  and  we  took  him  at  his  word.   Things  started 


Pienza,  Montepulciano,  Citt4  della  Pieve  285 


finely,  as  we  had  an  enjoyable  dinner,  but  it  became 
very  cold  in  the  night,  and  our  great,  raftered  room, 
with  its  stone  floor  covered  only  by  innumerable  green 
tomatoes,  was  very  uncomfortable.  We  were  thank- 
ful for  our  hot- water  bags,  at  whose  filling  the  whole 
household  had  looked  on  with  interest.  The  morning 
brought  rain  and  somewhat  changed  our  plans.  Hav- 
ing first  marched  around  under  umbrellas  for  a  look  at 
the  several  pictures  by  Perugino,  none  of  the  first  order, 
we  gave  up  our  idea  of  going  to  Arezzo  and  made  as 
quick  a  trip  as  possible  of  the  twenty-seven  miles  to 
Perugia,  well  knowing  by  past  experience  that  there, 
come  rain,  come  shine,  we  could  pass  our  time  agreeably. 
What  with  its  views,  its  cleanliness,  its  comfort,  and 
the  intelligent  management,  the  Brufani,  Perugia's 
excellent  hotel,  makes  undoubtedly  the  finest  motoring 
headquarters  in  Italy.    We  were  glad  to  arrive. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


PERUGIA,   AREZZO,  MONTEFALCO. 

PERUGIA,  set  crown-like  on  her  hill,  is  a  rare 
viewpoint.  Looking  south,  the  eye  runs  down 
the  valley  through  which  the  tawny  Tiber  winds 


THE  PALAZZO  PUBBLICO  PERUGIA. 

its  way  past  Todi .    To  the  south-east  is  an  incomparable 

vista.    One  cannot  describe  the  natural  beauty,  the 

poetry,  the  religious  and  artistic  emotion,  which  blend 

286 


BONFIGLI  MADONNA. 

(Detail.) 


287 


Perugia,  Arezzo,  Montefalco  289 

to  make  the  feeling  of  sheer  delight  that  comes  from  a 
view  up  this  valley  of  the  hill  towns,  to  Assisi  and  be- 
yond, with  Monte  Subasio  lying  barren  and  strong  in  the 
Umbrian  sunlight.  Granting  the  subjective  content 
of  the  best  part  of  our  pleasure  in  the  scene,  the  actual 
beauty  of  the  landscape,  bared  of  its  associations,  is 
great.  The  views  from  the  Acropolis  and  the  Acrocorinth 
owe  much  to  sentiment,  but  are  also  great  in  themselves; 
yet  the  Umbrian  sentiment  has  a  warmth  that  the 
classic  world,  in  its  coldness,  cannot  give.  Plato  and 
Pericles  touch  our  intellects.  With  St.  Francis,  we 
bear  a  heart  to  heart  communion.    We  love  him. 

Perugia,  with  her  many  literary  friends  to  publish 
her  beauties,  will  bear  scant  description  at  my  hands. 
Suffice  it  to  mention  the  things  that  cling  most  in  the 
memory,  stowed  away  for  future  enjoyment.  First, 
foremost,  and  of  quick  recall  comes  the  strangely 
attractive  campanile  of  San  Pietro,  in  all  Perugia's 
panorama  the  object  to  which  the  eye  comes  back 
again  and  again.  Morning  after  morning  we  watched 
the  daybreak  as  it  lightened  beyond  the  pointed  spire, 
whose  outline  had  come  to  be  so  dear  to  us. 

Perugia's  fountain,  joint  work  of  Niccolo  Pisano 
and  Arnolfo  di  Cambio,  graces  the  public  square. 
Proportioned  faultlessly,  its  triple  basins,  with  their 
simple,  sculptured  figures,  are  ever  a  joy  to  the  art- 
lover.  The  neighbouring  cathedral,  rich  in  its  marbled 
walls,  stands  over  against  the  bulging  front  of  the  Pa- 
lazzo Pubblico,  which  holds  painted  treasures  that  one 


290     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

would  go  a  far  journey  to  see.  Fra  Angelico  and 
Gentile  da  Fabriano,  Boccatis  and  Taddeo  Bartoli 
show  wondrous  works  that  rival  the  native  talent  of 
Bonfigli  and  Fiorenzo.    Perugino   and  Pinturicchio, 


Mrs.  J.  L.  Gardiner,  Boston 
FIORENZO  DI  LORENZO  "ANNUNCIATION." 


the  later  heads  of  the  local  school,  are  well  represented 
in  themselves  and  in  the  works  of  their  pupils.  No- 
where else  is  it  possible  to  get  so  comprehensive  a  view 
of  Umbrian  art  in  its  progress  from  crudity  to  mastery. 


Ex-Nevin  Collection,  Rome. 

BOCCATIS  MADONNA. 


2QI 


Perugia,  Arezzo,  Montefalco  293 

Here  we  learn  to  value  Fiorenzo  at  his  true  worth,  the 
great  Fiorenzo,  whose  works,  apart  from  those  close 
to  Perugia,  number  less  than  half  a  dozen.  One  of  his 
finest,  an  Annunciation,  formerly  at  Assisi,  is  now  in  the 
collection  of  Mrs.  Gardiner,  in  Boston.  Boccatis, 
too,  that  splendid  early  master  from  Camerino  in 
the  Marches,  is  seen  here  as  nowhere  else,  save  at 
Belforte,  of  which  we  shall  speak  later  on.  Two  of  his 
rare  works  found  a  temporary  home  in  the  collection 
of  the  late  Dr.  Nevin,  in  Rome. 

Perugino  in  the  Cambio,  Raphael  at  San  Severo, 
Agostino  di  Duccio  at  San  Bernardino,  have  given  us 
a  store  of  memories  to  add  to  the  many  pleasures  that 
one  associates  with  the  name  of  Perugia.  Near  the 
latter  church,  one  may  watch  with  interest  the  dyers 
of  wool,  as,  in  a  primitive  way,  they  hang  their  yarn 
in  the  open  to  dry — a  sight  impossible  in  up-to-date 
America.  For  Perugia  itself,  we  saved  our  rainy  days. 
Sunshine  found  us  ever  on  the  road,  making  the  most 
of  the  town  as  an  excursion  centre. 

Perugia  brought  us  the  acquaintance  of  a  resident 
Englishman.  When  asked  by  an  English  friend,  who 
had  a  smattering  of  Italian,  how  to  make  Italian  porters 
handle  luggage  quickly,  he  replied,  "Swear  at  them." 
"  But  how? — I  don't  know  how.  "  "  Combine  the  name 
of  the  deity  with  the  male  animals  who  entered  the 
ark,  that  of  the  Madonna  with  the  female,  and  see  how 
it  will  work,"  was  the  reply.  The  next  day  our  friend 
was  asked  by  the  station-master,  "Who  was  the  crazy 


294     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


Englishman  that  left  here  yesterday? — Such  swearing! 
'  Dio  elefante' — yes,  the  good  God  is  indeed  pre-potente 
(very  powerful) ;  but  'Madonna  giraffa,'  impossibile!" 

Our  first  excursion,  to  Arezzo,  was  a  bit  unlucky. 
We  had  not  gone  far  when  a  puncture  stopped  us.  It 
began  to  rain  and  repair  work  was  anything  but  agree- 
able. In  ship-shape  again,  we  ran  up  a  hill  and  through 
Magione,  coming  soon  into  sight  of  Lake  Trasimene, 


which  looked  attractive  even  in  the  rain  and  the  mist. 
We  sped  over  the  level  where  Hannibal  overcame 
the  Romans  under  Flaminius  in  a  great  and  bloody 
battle.  A  heavy  mist,  of  frequent  occurrence  here, 
aided  the  Carthaginian  leader  in  the  surprise  that  did 
so  much  to  win  the  victory.  The  Romans,  unaware 
of  the  presence  of  the  enemy,  were  taken  in  flank  and 
put  to  rout.    Passing  on  through  Terontola,  WeU- 


DYERS  OF  WOOL  PERUGIA. 


Perugia,  Arezzo,  Montefalco  295 

known  as  a  railway  junction,  and  under  high-lying 
Cortona,  we  are  again  in  Tuscany,  fifty  miles  from 
Perugia  entering  the  Santo  Spirito  gate  at  Arezzo, 
thankful  for  a  place  in  which  to  dry  our  soaking  selves, 
even  though  it  were  no  more  prepossessing  than  the 
Inghilterra. 

Arezzo,  a  town  with  a  population  of  somewhat  less 
than  twenty  thousand,  has  a  history  that  goes  back 
to  the  days  of  the  Etruscan  league.  Later,  as  a  Roman 
colony,  it  gave  birth  to  Maecenas,  friend  of  Augustus 
and  patron  of  Horace.  Petrarch,  in  literature,  Guido 
Monaco,  in  music,  and  Giorgio  Vasari,  would-be  painter 
and  a  truly  sympathetic  press-agent  for  the  craft,  all 
lend  interest  to  the  town  that  gave  them  birth.  Lack- 
ing a  great  painter,  Arezzo  had  the  wisdom  to  employ 
one  when  the  opportunity  offered;  for  the  church  of  S. 
Francesco  shows  us  strong  creations  of  Piero  dei 
Franceschi.  that  wondrously  virile  painter  from  Borgo 
San  Sepolcro.  At  the  time  of  our  visit,  the  church 
was  undergoing  a  thorough  restoration  and  the  frescoes 
were  in  anything  but  a  fit  setting.  Nevertheless,  the 
direct  sincerity  of  these  sturdy  representations  of 
Solomon,  Constantine,  and  Chosroes  did  not  fail  to 
attract  us  strongly.  Of  all  Piero's  works,  I  love  best 
his  Triumphs  on  the  reverse  of  the  Montefeltro  por- 
traits in  the  Uffizi.  Do  we  see  anywhere  else  so  idyllic 
a  landscape? — a  broad  plain,  with  dear  little  brown 
hills  scattered  all  over  it  and  the  placid  river  winding 
in  between;   not  to  mention  the  little  tufted  trees 


296     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

with  which  the  landscape  is  so  regularly  dotted.  One 
must  go  a  long  way  to  find  anything  so  charming. 

The  Pieve  is  an  interesting  building,  with  its  many- 
columned  facade  and  high,  pierced  campanile.  The 
interior,  architecturally  very  much  out  of  true,  pro- 
duces an  effect  of  great  age.  Here  we  find  a  polyptych 
by  Pietro  Lorenzetti,  dated  1320.  Our  Sienese  ex- 
perience makes  him  an  old  friend. 

The  Palazzo  Pubblico,  in  the  street  that  leads  up  to 
the  cathedral,  is  interesting  for  the  many  armorial 
bearings,  carved  in  stone,  with  which  its  front  is 
plastered,  serving  in  its  day,  perhaps,  as  a  directory  of 
Arezzo's  "four  hundred."  The  cathedral,  with  an 
unfinished  brick  facade,  backs  on  an  open  space  from 
whose  terrace  there  is  a  fine  view,  northward,  to  the 
hills  of  the  Casentino,  among  whose  solitudes  the 
blessed  Francis  had  his  wounding  vision.  The  weather 
and  the  lateness  of  the  season  kept  us  from  La  Verna, 
keenly  disappointing  us. 

The  cathedral  contains  a  fine  Magdalen  by  Piero  dei 
Franceschi  and  a  St.  Jerome  by  Bartolommeo  della 
Gatta,  an  able  assistant  to  Signorelli,  other  works  by 
whom  are  in  the  local  gallery,  where,  too,  we  may 
see  pictures  by  the  early  Aretines,  Margaritone  and 
Spinello. 

Leaving  Arezzo,  we  made  quick  time  to  Perugia, 
barring  a  fifteen-minute  halt  on  account  of  a  puncture. 
Lake  Trasimene  made  a  wonderful  picture  as  we 
passed  along  its  shore,  great  banks  of  mist  alternating 


Alinari  photo. 

THE  PIEVE  AREZZO. 


Perugia,  Arezzo,  Montefalco  301 

with  open  spaces  where  the  conquering  sunlight  was 
beginning  to  put  the  bad  weather  to  rout.  Beyond 
the  lake,  we  barely  avoided  a  collision  with  a  cart, 
whose  sleeping  driver  was  unaware  of  our  coming. 
This  reminded  us  of  a  story,  told  by  a  friend, 
who,  cycling  from  Siena  to  Colle,  met  a  cart  going 
from  Colle  to  S  i  ena . 
The  horse,  fright- 
ened by  the  bicycle , 
turned  around  and 
started  back  to 
Colle,  while  the 
driverdozed  peace- 
fully  on.  Some 
time  later,  as  our 
friend  returned 
from  Colle,  he  met 
the  same  cart  just 
entering  the  town, 
the  driver  still 
asleep ! 

r  TROUBLE      NEAR  BETTONA. 

The  next  day 
was  cloudy.  At  noon,  the  Tramontana  began  to  blow 
and  blow  in  earnest.  This  strong,  north  wind  is  the 
precursor  of  splendid  weather,  and  we  welcomed  it. 
By  night,  everything  was  clear  as  a  bell,  with  stars 
that  were  fairly  dazzling.  The  following  morning  we 
were  off,  past  San  Pietro,  to  the  small  town  of  Bettona, 
whose  municipio  contains   some  interesting  things. 


302     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Fiorenzo  di  Lorenzo's  St.  Michael,  who  tramples  the 
Devil  underfoot,  is  a  fine  work,  though  almost  ruined 
by  a  very  recent  and  most  crude  restoration.  A  com- 
parison of  photographs,  taken  "before  and  after,"  is 
enough  to  draw  tears  to  the  eyes.  Perugino  has 
two  pictures  here,  but  little  known,  not  so  attract- 
ive, however,  as  the  work  of  the  rarer  Fiorenzo. 

From  Bettona  we  ran  along  the  hillside  to  Bevagna, 
where  St.  Francis  preached  to  the  birds,  as  Giotto 
shows  us  at  Assisi,  and  then,  crossing  the  Teverone,  we 
wound  our  way  upward  to  high  Montefalco,  enjoying 
the  wonderful  and  changing  views  of  Assisi,  Spello, 
Foligno,  and  Trevi,  with  grand,  massive  Subasio  and 
higher,  snow-tipped  peaks  in  the  background.  Subasio 
was  all  day  an  object  of  curious  interest,  appearing 
almost  chameleon-like  in  its  changing  colour.  The 
barren  slopes  seemed  now  brown,  now  darker,  with  a 
tinge  of  red,  and  later,  when  the  sun  had  dropped, 
a  pale  grey. 

At  Montefalco,  our  first  tribute  was  paid  to  the  inner 
man.  Lunch  of  a  very  primitive  nature  was  welcome. 
The  hard-baked  chunks  of  brownish  bread  surrendered 
to  our  attacks  and  let  themselves  be  washed  down  by 
the  sourish  local  wine.  11  U ova  al  burro"  (eggs  fried 
in  butter)  added  a  zest  to  the  repast.  The  dried  beef, 
sliced  thin,  an  equivalent  of  our  American  "chipped 
beef,"  was  almost  lost  to  us,  through  the  agency  of 
an  enormous  cat,  the  pest  of  the  hostelry,  who  jumped 
on  the  table  and  was  off  again,  in  a  twinkling,  with  a  full 


Perugia,  Arezzo,  Montefalco  305 

mouth.  The  landlady  chased  him  with  a  stick,  fitted 
with  tinkling  bells,  of  which  Mr.  Thomas  seemed  duly  in 
fear. 

Montefalco  is  a  joy,  God-made  and  man-made.  To 


AT  MONTEFALCO. 


the  credit  of  Nature  goes  the  grand  view  of  hill  and 
valley  that  one  gets  from  many  a  vantage-point  along 
the  eastern  wall.    The  incomparable  plain  of  Umbria 

stretches  north  and  south  in  unbroken  beauty.  Many 

20 


306     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

are  the  pinnacled  towns  on  which  the  eyes  rest,  most 
neighbouring  being  Trevi,  directly  opposite.  Dear 
Reader,  let  me  omit  my  enthusiasms  here.  Go  and  see 
for  yourself  a  picture  that  you  may  carry  home  to  a 
more  prosaic  land,  to  give  you  an  ever-recallable 
pleasure. 

Benozzo  Gozzoli,  pupil  of  Fra  Angelico,  recalling 
to  us  Pisa,  San  Gimignano,  and  the  Riccardi  Chapel, 
is  the  man  to  whom  Montefalco  owes  a  debt  in  the 
realm  of  art.  The  church  of  San  Francesco  contains 
frescoes  by  him,  representing  scenes  from  the  life  of 
St.  Francis,  of  which  the  most  naive  and  charming  is 
the  one  where  Francis,  doubly  portrayed,  preaches  to 
the  birds  and  blesses  Marco  and  Jacopo  of  Montefalco, 
through  whose  generosity  the  frescoes  were  completed 
in  the  year  1452.  The  church  of  San  Fortunato, 
about  a  kilometre  to  the  south  of  the  town,  with  a 
splendid  view,  holds  two  other  works  by  the  master. 
Here,  as  in  San  Francesco,  we  find  frescoes  by  Tiberio 
of  Assisi,  a  pupil  of  Perugino.  The  latter  himself 
has  an  Annunciation  and  Nativity  in  San  Francesco. 
Montefalco  produced,  in  Melanzio,  a  mediocre  artist 
of  some  merit,  whose  works  are  in  several  of  the 
churches  and  are  chiefly  interesting  as  being  thor- 
oughly Umbrian  in  an  Umbrian  setting.  Before  leav- 
ing Montefalco  we  had  to  take  a  snap-shot  of  a  dear 
youngster,  whose  little  brother  encouraged  her  not  to 
be  afraid  to  look  at  the  camera.  We  ran  back  to 
Perugia  by  Foligno,  Spello,  and  Santa  Maria  degli 


VOLUMNII  TOMB  PERUGIA. 

307 


Perugia,  Arezzo,  Montefalco  309 

Angeli,  below  Assisi.  We  caught  a  puncture  at  the 
Volumnii  tomb,  near  the  foot  of  Perugia's  hill,  and  took 
the  opportunity  for  an  inspection  while  Mazzini  did  the 
repairing.  This  tomb,  one  of  the  most  interesting  of 
Etruscan  remains,  is  of  a  rather  late  period,  as  may 
be  seen  from  the  inscriptions,  which  show  Roman  in- 
fluence. The  probable  date  is  250  b.c.  We  go 
down  a  flight  of  steps  and  enter  the  main  portion  of  the 
rock-hewn  tomb.  On  all  sides  of  us  are  chambers, 
filled  with  carved  sarcophagi,  which  bear  upon  their 
tops  the  effigies  of  the  deceased.  Figures  of  genii  are 
suspended  from  the  ceiling.  The  excellent  preserva- 
tion of  everything  produces  an  impression  that  is  not 
exceeded  by  the  earlier  tombs  at  Corneto  and  Cerveteri, 
which,  however,  should  be  visited  by  any  one  anxious 
to  get  an  idea  of  a  civilisation  that  is  utterly  ignored 
by  the  ordinary  visitor  to  Italy.  Memories  of  the  fine 
excursions  made  from  Rome,  as  a  member  of  the  Ameri- 
can Archaeological  School,  to  the  Etruscan  tombs  of 
Tarquinia,  Caere,  Norchia,  and  Castel  d'  Asso,  make  me 
wish  that  others,  to  whom  the  past  gives  interest, 
might  also  have  such  pleasure.  Italy's  treasure- 
house  is  so  many-sided,  however,  as  almost  to  dis- 
courage the  attempt  to  see  her  fully,  so  that  the 
Volumnii  tomb  may  well  be  visited  by  those  who  have 
no  opportunity  for  a  wider  acquaintance  with  Etruscan 
remains. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


CORTONA,   CITTA  DI    CASTELLO,   BORGO    SAN  SEPOLCRO, 

URBINO. 

I T  had  been  our  intention  to  go  next  to  Gubbio,  but 
information  came  that  the  lower  road  was  im- 
passable, owing  to  damage  done  by  the  flooded 
Tiber.  As  we  did  not  wish  both  to  go  and  return  by 
the  upper  road,  we  postponed  our  trip  and  started, 
instead,  for  Cortona,  rising  early,  to  be  greeted  by  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  of  sunrises.  I  have  a  descrip- 
tive note  taken  on  the  spot,  but  I  find  it  such  a  jumble 
of  colours,  enthusiasms,  and  cloud  effects  that  it  will  not 
bear  transcription.  The  contrast  between  the  clouded 
plain,  untouched  by  the  sun,  and  the  glowing  mountains 
and  heavens  was  enough  to  charm  the  most  callous  eye. 

We  followed  our  usual  road  past  Magione  and  Lake 
Trasimene,  the  weather  for  the  first  time  granting  us 
a  view  of  Montepulciano.  Reaching  Cortona,  we 
wound  up  the  hill  past  the  church  of  Santa  Maria, 
built  by  Francesco  di  Giorgio  (greater  as  architect 
than  as  painter),  and  entered  by  the  Porta  S.  Agostino 
and  the  remarkably  steep  Via  Guelfa.  Even  our  con- 
fidence in  the  Fiat  gave  place  to  a  qualm  as  we  started 
upward.    Only  at  Todi  did  we  have  any  grade  to  equal 

310 


Cortona,  Citta  di  Castello  315 


it.  But  the  car  came  through  with  flying  colours  and  we 
soon  drew  up  at  the  door  of  the  Albergo  Nazionale.  As 
we  stopped,  the  crowd  of  bounding  urchins,  that  formed 
our  wake,  pointed  excitedly  to  our  gasoline  tank. 
Evidently  it  had  been  struck  by  a  stone,  for  a  steady 
flow  of  the  malodorous  liquid  was  coming  from  a  small 
hole.  Mazzini  assured  us  that  his  soldering  outfit 
would  put  everything  right  again  before  we  should 
need  the  car,  so,  after  ordering  lunch,  we  started  out 
to  see  the  sights.  We  found  the  church  of  San  Do- 
menico  undergoing  a  restoration.  Most  of  its  pictures 
had  been  taken  to  the  baptistery,  though  Bartolommeo 
della  Gatta's  Assumption  was  still  in  place.  The  cathe- 
dral contains  pictures  by  Signorelli,  Cortona's  great 
painter,  precursor,  in  the  nude,  to  Michael  Angelo. 
Orvieto  shows  him  in  the  fulness  of  his  glory.  The 
baptistery,  which  faces  the  cathedral,  demands  more 
than  a  cursory  visit,  for  it  contains  splendid  works  by 
Fra  Angelico,  Sassetta,  and  Signorelli.  Sassetta's  M  a- 
donna,  holding  the  Child  and  accompanied  by  angels 
and  saints,  is,  in  dignity,  hard  to  equal.  Nicholas, 
Michael,  the  Baptist,  and  Margaret,  slender  and  ascetic, 
are  highly  typical  of  the  Sienese  art  of  the  second  quar- 
ter of  the  fifteenth  century.  Fra  Angelico's  early 
Annunciation  is  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  his  works, 
of  which  our  reproduction  proves  an  apt  witness. 
Other  things  in  Cortona  worth  seeing  are  the  museum, 
full  of  Etruscan  remains,  S.  Niccolo,  with  a  Signorelli, 
and  the  church  of  Santa  Margherita,  which  contains  the 


316     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


tomb  of  the  famous  saint  of  that  name  Near-by  is  the 
high-lying  fortress,  a  fine  view-point. 

Leaving  the  city  by  the  Porta  Colonia,  we  had  a 
chance  to  inspect  the  massive  walls,  which  date  back 
to  the  time  when  Cortona  was  a  powerful  member 
of  the  Etruscan  league.  Our  destination  was  Citta  di 
Castello,  somewhat  less  than  thirty  miles  distant.  The 
road  over  the  mountains,  with  its  wide  outlook  on  Lake 
Trasimene  and  the  Val  di  Chiana,  is  well  graded.  We 
reached  an  altitude  of  three  thousand  feet  in  a  district 
whose  bleakness  is  so  accentuated  as  to  be  impressive. 

Running  downward  again  in  wide,  sweeping  curves, 
with  Mazzini  occasionally  giving  us  the  shivers  in  his. 
too  adept  speeding,  we  reached  Nestore  and  the  valley 
of  the  Tiber.  On  the  level  road  we  met  a  diminutive 
girl,  driving  an  ox-cart.  Seeing  an  automobile  was 
undoubtedly  new  to  her  and  she  was  very  much  fright- 
ened as  she  sat  there,  making  all  sorts  of  faces  in  an  en- 
deavour not  to  cry.  We  held  her  team  for  her  till  the 
machine  had  gone  by  and  received  a  very  pathetic 
grazie  for  our  trouble. 

Citta  di  Castello 's  modernised  cathedral  is,  with 
the  exception  of  the  door-post  carvings,  of  little  artistic 
importance.  The  picture  gallery  contains  works  of 
interest  by  Signorelli.  Two  processional  banners, 
attributed  to  Raphael,  are  much  more  pleasing  than 
their  damaged  condition  would  warrant.  Tifernate, 
a  local  artist,  and  Rafaellino  dal  Colle,  Raphael's 
assistant,  are  well  represented. 


Cortona,  Citta  di  Castello  317 

A  level  run  of  ten  miles  brought  us  to  Borgo  San 
Sepolcro.  Borgo 's  comfortable  Albergo  Fiorentino 
implied  in  its  name  that  we  were  again  in  Tuscany. 
Borgo  and  Citta  di  Castello,  the  one  Tuscan,  the  other 
Umbrian,  are  keen  rivals,  historically,  and  even  to-day, 
under  a  United  Italy,  there  is  no  love  lost  between 
them.  At  Borgo,  the  weather  again  went  back  on 
us  and  our  expectations  of  continued  sunshine  were 
unfulfilled. 

Borgo  boasts  several  native  painters,  but  Piero  dei 
Franceschi  eclipses  the  others.  The  gallery  holds  his 
most  serious  work,  a  frescoed  Resurrection.  In  type 
it  is  so  severe  as  to  be  almost  revolting,  until  one  comes 
to  an  understanding  of  its  majesty.  It  may  fail  to 
please  but  cannot  fail  to  impress.  The  cathedral  con- 
tains a  fine  Ascension  by  Perugino,  excellent  in  tone. 
The  Servi  and  Santa  Chiara  should  be  visited,  the 
former  for  interesting  panels  by  Matteo  of  Siena, 
who,  curiously  enough,  was  not  a  Sienese  at  all,  but  a 
native  of  Borgo. 

From  Borgo  San  Sepolcro  to  Urbino  was  a  splendid 
trip,  over  a  road  whose  excellence  was  marred  only  by  a 
fresh  spreading  of  crushed  stone,  or  breccia,  as  the 
Italians  call  it.  We  followed  the  Tiber  as  far  as  San 
Giustino  and  then  turned  up  into  the  hills.  Higher 
and  higher  we  went,  magnificent  views  opening  to  us. 
The  valley  of  the  Tiber  stretched  away  into  the  dis- 
tance as  it  sought  Perugia,  Todi,  and  Rome.  Some 
ten  miles  from  San  Giustino  we  reached  the  top  of  the 


318      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Trabaria  Pass,  at  a  height  of  3500  feet.  The  geological 
stratifications,  tilted  at  all  angles,  should  make  the 


Alinari  photo.  Borgo  San  Sepolcro. 

PIERO  DEI  FRANCESCHI  "  THE  RESURRECTION." 


district  of  scientific  interest.  The  descending  curves, 
from  the  top  to  Mercatello,  made  us  fidgety,  but  we 
came  through  all  right.    At  Mercatello  we  spent  a 


Borgo  San  Sepolcro,  Urbino  319 

pleasant  hour  with  the  parish  priest,  to  whom  we  had 
a  card.  He  took  great  pleasure  in  showing  us  the 
old  church,  whose  choir  has  ceiling  frescoes  by  some 
follower  of  Melozzo  da  Forli.  A  steady  descent  soon 
took  us  to  Sant'  Angelo  in  Vado,  twenty-five  miles 
from  San  Giustino,  and  another  like  distance  brought 
a  glimpse  of  Urbino,  sitting  on  her  hilltop.  We  were 
now  in  the  "Marches."  Stretching  along  the  east 
coast  of  the  peninsula,  from  the  Romagna  on  the  north  to 
the  Abruzzi  on  the  south,  this  mountainous  district  that 
looks  seaward  is  perhaps  the  most  beautiful  in  Italy. 

Urbino  has  many  a  charm  beside  the  potent  one 
that  clings  to  her  as  the  town  that  gave  birth  to  a 
Raphael.  Raphael's  house  and  that  of  his  early  mas- 
ter, Timoteo  Viti,  lie  in  the  same  street,  the  one  that 
leads  up  to  the  town's  top,  from  which  is  a  view  that 
includes  San  Marino's  rock,  rising  beyond  numberless 
mountain  ridges,  with  intervening  cloud-filled  valleys. 
In  the  distance  one  may  see  the  Adriatic,  lying  beyond 
Pesaro.  The  young  Raphael,  with  his  budding  love  for 
things  beautiful,  may  have  revelled  in  the  sight, 
though  the  spirit  of  his  age  ignored  it.  Lunch  in  the 
restaurant  of  the  Italia  was  made  miserable  by  a  group 
whose  dialect  discussion  of  the  possibilities  of  the 
weather  was  so  intense  and  loud  that  one  might  think  a 
murder  was  about  to  be  committed.  As  a  counter-irri- 
tant, we  began  to  talk  as  loudly  as  possible,  curious  to 
see  whether  we  would  attract  attention.  The  result  was 
decidedly  negative  and  we  gave  up. 


320      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

The  old  castle  or  palace  of  the  Montefeltri,  who  ruled 
here  during  the  Renaissance,  is  Urbino's  chief  monu- 
ment. The  rounded,  steepled  towers,  that  form  its 
corners,  seem  un- Italian.  One  is  reminded  of  Chenon- 
ceaux  and  other  French  buildings  of  the  period.  Inside 
are  particularly  fine  doors  and  doorways,  copious  with 
decorative  motives.  The  picture  gallery  of  the  palace 
contains  a  Last  Supper  by  Justus  of  Ghent,  one  of 
the  most  important  Flemish  works  painted  in  Italy. 
Justus  was  court  painter  at  Urbino.  He  has  introduced 
here  a  portrait  of  Duke  Federico,  less  admirable,  how- 
ever, than  his  similar  work  in  the  Barberini  Palace,  in 
Rome.  Justus  influenced  Giovanni  Santi,  the  father 
of  Raphael,  several  of  whose  pictures  are  here.  A  hard, 
dry  painter,  he  gives  small  prophecy  of  the  mellow 
quality  that  was  the  undoing  of  his  son.  From  Titian's 
Resurrection,  a  late  work,  one  cannot  withhold  approval, 
though  the  too  vigorous  figure  of  Christ,  with  the 
unspirituality  of  feature  which  Titian  often  imparts, 
detracts  from  the  pleasure  of  the  work.  Pictures  by 
later  court  painters,  Baroccio  and  Vitali,  interested  us 
in  connection  with  the  portrait  of  the  young  prince 
Federico,  mentioned  at  page  224. 

Until  he  was  sixty-one  years  old,  Francesco  Maria  II. 
della  Rovere,  Duke  of  Urbino,  had  not  been  blessed 
with  an  heir,  so  that  the  birth  of  his  son,  Federico,  on 
May  15,  1605,  produced  great  joy  in  the  ducal  family 
and  also  among  the  people.  A  naive  chronicle  of  the 
time  tells  how  "the  populace,  almost  wild  with  joy, 


DUCAL  PALACE  URBINO, 


321 


Collection  of  the  Author. 

VITALI  "FEDERICO   OF  URBINO." 


323 


Borgo  San  Sepolcro,  Urbino  327 

rushed  to  the  Jews'  quarters  and  sacked  houses  and 
the  synagogue"!  This  happened  in  Pesaro.  The 
proud  father's  diary,  under  date  of  December  9,  1606, 
records  the  cutting  of  his  son's  first  tooth.  In  1609, 
Federico  was  affianced  to  the  slightly  older  Claudia  de' 
Medici,  sister  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany.  He  grew 
up  to  be  a  fine  lad,  vigorous  in  both  mind  and  body,  but 
the  overmuch  petting  of  his  father  and  the  lack  of  will 
of  his  mother  soon  made  him  headstrong  and  utterly 
uncontrollable.  Very  early,  when  travelling,  he  be- 
came addicted  to  bad  companions.  The  Duke,  hope- 
ful that  marriage  would  cause  Federico  to  reform  his 
mode  of  life,  urged  the  carrying  out  of  the  nuptial 
agreement.  The  wedding  took  place  in  162 1  and  im- 
mediately thereafter  this  youth  of  sixteen,  through  the 
abdication  of  his  father,  became  Duke  of  Urbino. 
Forthwith,  enormity  followed  enormity,  there  being  a 
conscious  effort  on  the  part  of  Federico  to  imitate  Nero. 
Two  years  of  riot  brought  the  young  man's  life  to  an 
end,  when  he  was  barely  past  his  eighteenth  year.  He 
died  in  the  night,  suffocated,  but  whether  by  a  hemor- 
rhage or  violence  is  unknown.  The  hatred  in  which  he 
was  held  by  all  gave  ground,  at  the  time,  to  suspicion 
of  murder.  When  we  look  at  the  big-eyed  baby's  face 
it  seems  hard  to  believe  all  the  evils  of  his  later  life. 
The  old  Duke,  after  his  son's  death,  came  to  his  own 
again,  and  ruled  for  three  years.  In  1626  he  surren- 
dered his  duchy  to  the  Pope,  and  died  in  163 1  at  the  age 
of  eighty-six. 


328      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

As  one  emerges  from  the  palace,  Luca  della  Robbia's 
fine  lunette,  over  the  portal  of  San  Domenico,  catches 
the  eye  and  holds  it.  The  Madonna,  standing  amid 
attendant  saints,  proudly  supports  her  son.  Luca 
has  left  us  few  nobler  examples  of  his  art. 

The  cathedral,  in  its  sacristy,  contains  works  by 
Baroccio,  Timoteo  Viti,  and  Piero  dei  Franceschi.  At 
this  stage  of  our  trip  we  have  become  sufficiently  im- 
bued with  the  archaic  spirit  to  thoroughly  enjoy  such 
a  work  as  Piero' s  Flagellation.  Baedeker's  use  of  the 
adjective  "elaborated"  with  regard  to  this  simple 
work  is  about  as  inappropriate  as  possible.  Piero  gives 
us  here  that  almost  Chinese  type,  such  as  we  see  in  his 
London  Baptism. 

Urbino  has  another  place  adorned  by  primitive  mas- 
ters, the  oratory  of  San  Giovanni,  whose  old  timber 
roof  rises  in  odd  curves  over  frescoes  by  the  San  Severini, 
contemporaries  of  Gentile  da  Fabriano.  The  frescoes, 
which  bear  the  date  141 6,  tell  the  story  of  John  the 
Baptist.  Over  the  inappropriate  baroque  altar  is  a 
large  Crucifixion,  filling  the  end  of  the  oratory.  These 
frescoes  are  of  prime  historic  importance  and  may  be 
sufficient  to  decide  whether  the  San  Severini  influ- 
enced Gentile  or  vice  versa. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


PESARO,   FANO,   SENIGALLIA,   ANCONA,   JESI,  MACERATA, 
RECANATI,  LORETO. 

*  I  "^HE  next  morning  at  nine  we  left  Urbino.  The 


gradual  descent  of  twenty-three  miles  brought 


us  to  Pesaro  and  the  Adriatic  in  an  even  hour, 
though  we  had  a  puncture  to  delay  us.  The  Pesaro 
Museum,  with  its  majolica  and  pictures  by  Zoppo, 
failed  to  delay  us,  as  we  chose  to  reserve  our  limited 
time  for  the  enjoyment  of  Giovanni  Bellini's  Coro- 
nation in  San  Ubaldo,  a  masterpiece  by  the  Dean  of 
Venice,  which  quiets  and  soothes.  Christ  and  the 
Virgin,  seated  in  the  centre,  give  the  key  to  the  calmness 
of  the  whole  work.  Peter  and  Paul,  Jerome  and 
Francis  stand  at  the  sides,  above  predella  panels  which 
tell  a  story  from  the  life  of  each.  The  centre  panel 
is  somewhat  darkened  but  the  fine  colour  of  the  predella 
proves  more  than  a  compensation.  Pesaro's  ducal 
palace,  which  fronts  the  piazza,  is  now  the  prefecture. 
Built  by  Laurana,  about  1460,  its  proportions  are  so 
fine  as  to  make  it  a  model  for  architects  of  to-dav. 

Fano,  a  small  coast-town,  eight  miles  to  the  south, 
boasts  a  Roman  triumphal  arch.  The  church  of  Santa 
Croce  has  a  Madonna  by  Giovanni  Santi,  who  appro- 


33°     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

priately  brings  in  a  St.  Helena,  whose  figure,  in  its 
breadth  of  conception,  is  perhaps  the  best  that  the  artist 
has  left  us.  His  Visitation,  in  Santa  Maria  Nuova,  is 
sincere  but  does  not  bear  comparison  with  the  near-by 
Peruginos.  Of  these,  the  Annunciation,  though  far 
from  startling,  is  on  the  high  artistic  plane  occupied 
by  Perugino's  average  works.  The  Madonna  and  Pieta, 
painted  in  1497,  are  of  similar  quality,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  predella,  which  is  simply  splendid.  The 
central  panel,  a  Marriage  of  the  Virgin,  is  one  of  the 
most  winsome  of  the  many  representations  of  the 
subject.  Raphael's  Brera  picture,  painted  seven  years 
later,  owes  much  to  this  creation  of  his  master,  though 
art  historians  have  always  taught  that  the  Caen  Sposa- 
lizio  is  the  inspiring  work.  Mr.  Berenson  is  the  first 
to  rightly  show  that  the  Caen  picture  is  a  later  and 
poorer  work,  not  by  Perugino,  but  by  Lo  Spagna. 

Fifteen  miles  of  level  road  led  us  to  the  old  Roman 
fortress  of  Senigallia,  where  we  turned  inland  for  two 
miles,  going  up  a  long  hill  to  the  church  of  S.  Maria 
delle  Grazie,  whose  high  altar  bears  a  Madonna  and 
Saints,  attributed  to  Perugino.  Another  picture  here, 
Piero  dei  Franceschi's  sturdy  Madonna,  with  her 
sturdier  Babe,  bears  witness  to  the  vigilance  of  the 
government.  The  picture  has  twice  been  sold  and 
removed  and  twice  recovered. 

The  young  Franciscan  who  acted  as  our  very  cour- 
teous guide  gently  refused  our  offered  gratuity,  refer- 
ring our  insistence  to  the  box  of  offerings  for  the  poor. 


Pesaro,  Fano,  Senigallia,  Ancona  333 

After  following  his  suggestion,  we  started  away  to  what 
proved  to  be  the  closest  to  serious  of  any  incident 
of  our  trip.  Turning  into  the  long,  straight  descent 
that  led  to  the  main  road,  Mazzini  soon  had  us  spin- 
ning at  a  seventy-mile  gait.  A  quarter-mile  before  the 
turn,  the  power  was  thrown  off,  but  our  speed  slackened 
only  a  little.  When  the  brakes  were  set,  we  of  course 
slowed  up,  but  even  the  Samsons  were  unequal  to 


• 

THE  CATHEDRAL  ANCONA. 


what  proved  to  be  a  fine  film  of  mud  on  the  roadway, 
mud  that  must  have  contained  something  in  the  nature 
of  soapstone,  and  we  were  unable  to  make  the  corner. 
We  swung  partly  around,  passing  safely,  thanks  to 
wonderful  steering  by  Mazzini,  over  one  of  the  stone 
posts  which  lined  the  road,  and  brought  up  in  the 
ditch  at  the  far  side,  almost  turning  over  against  the 
bank  beyond,  with  its  thicket  of  thorny  brambles. 


334      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

We  rested  on  two  wheels  for  a  moment  and  then  settled 
back.  Both  axles  were  bent  by  the  shock,  but  we 
were  able  to  go  on,  twenty  miles,  to  Ancona,  where 
satisfactory  repairs  were  brought  about.  We  were 
thankful  for  our  escape.  Things  had  looked  very 
dubious  for  five  breathless  seconds. 

Memories  of  Ancona  include  a  sun  that  tried  in 
vain  to  shine  sufficiently  to  take  the  edge  from  a  sharp 


THE  HARBOUR  ANCONA. 

sea-wind;  a  steady  beat  of  hammers  from  the  rivetters 
in  the  shipyard,  sounding  upward  to  the  height  of 
Monte  Guasco,  which,  with  its  old  cathedral  of  San 
Ciriaco,  commands  a  wide-spread  view  of  the  fine  har- 
bour and  the  sea  beyond ;  and  Titian's  splendid  picture  in 
San  Domenico. 

The  cathedral,  built  in  the  twelfth  century  on  the 
ruins  of  a  temple  of  Venus,  has  a  deeply  recessed  portal, 


Alinari  photo.  Ancona. 
TITIAN  MADONNA  . 


335 


Pesaro,  Fano,  Senigallia,  Ancona  337 


beyond  which  is  a  dim  interior,  roofed  in  vaulted  wood, 
panelled  and  painted — very  old  and  very  fine.  Two 
carved  stone  screens  interested  us,  with  their  quaintly 
portrayed  eagles,  rabbits,  figs,  and  pomegranates.  We 
came  out  in  time  to  enjoy  a  fine  sunset.  Below  us 
stretched  the  north  arm  of  the  harbour,  built  in  part  by 
the  Romans  and  bearing  an  arch  dedicated  to  Trajan. 
A  later  extension,  under  Pope  Clement  XIT.  (1730-40), 
gave  occasion  for  the  building  of  another  arch,  far  in- 
ferior to  the  early  one.  Pope  Pius  II.  (Piccolomini) , 
while  preaching  a  crusade  here,  died  in  the  Bishop's 
Palace  near  the  cathedral.  Pinturicchio,  at  Siena,  has 
pictured  the  event  for  us.  On  the  way  back  to  the  hotel 
we  pass  the  former  church  of  San  Francesco,  now  a  hos- 
pital, interesting  for  its  portal,  and  a  gothic  loggia 
where  the  merchants  transact  business. 

Titian's  San  Domenico  picture  shows  us  the  Virgin 
seated  on  clouds,  the  Christ  child  standing  on  her  knees. 
She  bends  forward  slightly,  the  better  to  see  the  kneel- 
ing donor,  Alvise  Gozzi.  San  Biagio  and  San  Francesco 
stand  at  the  sides.  The  idealised  fig-tree,  outlined 
against  the  sky,  is,  in  itself,  a  work  of  art.  The  picture 
was  painted  in  1520  for  the  church  of  San  Francesco, 
from  which  it  has  been  transferred. 

The  picture  gallery,  too,  has  a  Titian,  a  Crucifixion, 
sadly  injured,  yet  fine.  It  is  a  late  and  powerful  work. 
The  hands  of  St.  Dominic,  who  clasps  the  foot  of  the 
cross,  are  wonderfully  drawn,  even  for  Titian.  The 

gallery  contains  reminders  that  Lotto  was  as  active 

22 


338     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

in  the  Marches  as  in  the  Bergamo  district.  His  pictures 
here  are  an  Assumption,  unworthy  of  him,  and  a 
Madonna  and  Saints,  the  latter  a  trifle  too  ponderous. 
A  Madonna  by  Crivelli  is  interesting,  as  being  one  of 
the  earliest  works  of  this  atavistic  follower  of  the 
Vivarini,  to  whom  the  Marches  owe  thanks  for  a  great 
part  of  their  artistic  attractiveness.  To  compliment 
Guercino,  by  mentioning  him  in  such  good  company, 
we  may  say  that  the  gallery  contains  several  works 
by  him  which  are  not  bad. 

To  get  to  Jesi  from  Ancona,we  back-tracked  for  eight 
miles,  turning  inland  at  Rocca  Prior  a  and  running 
toward  three  snowy  peaks  that  stirred  our  dormant 
passion  for  climbing.  A  dozen  miles  more  brought  us 
to  Jesi,  with  its  fine  municipio,  designed  by  Francesco 
di  Giorgio.  Lotto  is  Jesi's  attraction  and  all  the  pic- 
tures by  him  are  now  in  the  Library.  Of  these,  the  best 
were  painted  about  153c.  The  Visitation,  Annuncia- 
tion, and  St.  Lucy  before  Pascasius,  are  excellent.  The 
predelle  to  the  last  tell  the  story  of  St.  Lucy  in  a  way 
so  characteristic  of  Lotto  as  to  be  irresistible.  First 
is  depicted  the  visit  to  the  tomb  of  St.  Agatha,  at 
Catania  (Lucy  lived  in  Syracuse) ,  through  which  Lucy's 
mother  was  miraculously  healed.  Next  we  see  Lucy 
arguing  before  the  governor.  A  last  scene  shows  the 
saint  still  setting  forth  her  belief  to  the  enraged  gover- 
nor, while  eight  yoke  of  oxen  are  unable,  with  straining 
ropes,  to  move  her  from  her  place.  Lucy's  death  we 
do  not  see.    Contrary  to  a  late  tradition,  she  was 


Jesi,  Macerata,  Recanati,  Loreto  339 

martyred,  not  by  the  piercing  of  her  eyes,  but  by  a 
knife  thrust  in  the  neck.  Her  symbol,  a  pair  of  eyes, 
is  a  crude  way  of  expressing,  as  does  her  name,  that  she 
was  a  light  to  Christendom. 

From  Jesi  we  went,  by  Staffolo,  with  its  hospitable 
parish  priest,  who  showed  us  some  pictures,  to  Apiro, 
high-lying,  possessing  a  picture  by  Alegretto  Nuzi, 
and  a  splendid  view,  and  on  again  to  Cingoli  (twenty 
miles  in  all) ,  with  an  even  better  outlook  toward  the 
Adriatic.  Cingoli 's  view  is  wonderful.  It  held  us 
even  while  our  stomachs  demanded  lunch.  We  had, 
indeed,  done  a  strenuous  morning's  work.  Pasta,  beef- 
steak, eggs,  vegetables,  and  fruit  soon  put  us  in  fine 
fettle,  and  we  hastened  to  San  Domenico  and  its  Lotto, 
an  enthroned  Madonna,  with  saints.  Three  young 
angels,  who  scatter  handfuls  of  rose  leaves  from  a  large 
basket  in  the  foreground,  are  extremely  attractive. 
Above  the  throne  are  fifteen  small  circular  scenes  from 
the  Bible-story,  some  of  them  excellent.  The  Visita- 
tion is  a  repetition  of  the  Jesi  picture,  painted  nine 
years  before.  The  church  also  contains  a  rather  inter- 
esting but  hard  copy  of  the  figure  of  Christ,  from  Sebas- 
tiano  del  Piombo's  celebrated  Flagellation,  in  San 
Pietro  in  Montorio,  Rome. 

From  Cingoli  to  San  Severino,  some  twelve  miles,  the 
road  drops  about  twelve  hundred  feet.  There  is  a  wide 
swing  to  both  grades  and  curves  and  the  speed  with 
which  we  hummed  along  gave  us  a  great  sense  of  free- 
dom.   Mazzini  needed,  once  in  a  while,  to  be  cautioned 


34°     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

with  the  mystic  word,  "  Senigallia, "  which  proved 
most  potent.  San  Severino's  cathedral  possesses  a 
charming  Pinturicchio,  a  Madonna,  with  two  angels 
and  a  kneeling  donor.  The  church  of  San  Domenico 
contains  a  Madonna  and  Saints  by  that  other  Bernar- 
dino of  Perugia,  known  as  Bernardino  di  Mariotto. 
His  work  gives  a  queer  impression,  combining,  as  it  does, 
styles  that  are  incompatible.  Crivelli  and  Signorelli 
will  not  mix,  however  much  our  artist  may  strive.  The 
gallery  boasts  a  polyptych  by  Niccolo  of  Foligno, 
several  examples  of  the  work  of  the  younger  Lorenzo 
of  San  Severino,  and  an  altarpiece  by  Vittorio  Crivelli, 
Carlo's  pupil,  very  similar  to  his  picture  in  the  Wilstach 
Collection,  Philadelphia,  which,  as]  far  as  I  know,  has 
not  hitherto  been  published. 

From  San  Severino  we  turn  east,  to  Tolentino,  with 
its  cathedral  dedicated  to  St.  Nicholas,  patron  of  the 
town,  who  must  be  distinguished  from  the  greater 
Nicholas  of  Bari,  our  Santa  Claus.  The  chapel  of  the 
saint  contains  hundreds  of  votive  gifts.  The  numerous 
silver  offerings  were  of  less  interest  than  the  unique 
painted  wooden  slabs.  Here  are  frescoes  of  the  life 
of  the  saint,  of  the  local  school,  showing  him  in  his 
black  habit  of  the  August inian  order. 

We  passed  under  Macerata,  which  was  to  hold  us  for 
the  night,  and  turned  up  toward  Pausula,  as  enough 
daylight  remained  for  viewing  the  pictures  there.  As 
we  struck  the  up-grade,  the  car  seemed  to  lack  power. 
The  wheels  stopped  when  we  came  near  the  town, 


Alinari  photo.  San  Severino  Cathedral. 

PINTURICCHIO  MADONNA. 

341 


Jesi,  Macerata,  Recanati,  Loreto  345 

though  the  engine  continued  to  run  perfectly.  Leaving 
Mazzini  to  discover  the  trouble  we  walked  the  rest  of 
the  way.  In  brief,  what  we  found  at  Pausula  was  a 
damaged  but  fine  Madonna,  by  Crivelli  (in  S.  Agostino) , 
the  attendant  angels  painted  by  a  later  hand ;  a  Ma- 
donna and  Saints  by  the  younger  Lorenzo  di  San 
Severino,  and  several  panels,  with  saints,  by  Antonio 
and  Bartolommeo  Vivarini  (in  S.  Pietro). 

When  we  got  back  to  the  car,  we  found  that  Mazzini 
had  indeed  "discovered  trouble."  The  friction  discs 
of  the  clutch,  owing  to  a  lack  of  oil,  seemed  willing  to 
work  no  longer.  After  dousing  things  with  oil,  we  con- 
cluded to  take  the  chance  of  getting  to  Macerata.  With 
the  aid  of  the  men  and  boys  who  had  gathered,  we 
turned  the  car  in  the  narrow  road.  Faced  down-hill 
we  were  able  to  make  some  three  miles,  before  a  slight 
rise  halted  us.  It  was  getting  dark  and  our  long  day 
had  made  us  cross,  but  there  was  worse  to  come.  After 
a  long  wait,  we  were  able  to  get  a  team  of  cows  to  tow 
us  up  the  three  miles  of  hill,  into  Macerata.  It  was 
hard  work  for  the  poor  beasts,  so  we  made  the  driver 
take  his  time.  It  was  a  full  three  hours,  interminable 
ones,  before  we  entered  the  town.  The  Professor  had 
gone  ahead  to  order  dinner,  which  we  were  thankful 
to  find  ready  at  the  Albergo  Europa-Centrale.  Maz- 
zini, before  eating,  opened  up  the  clutch,  exposed  a  set 
of  broken  discs,  and  at  once  telegraphed  to  Turin 
for  a  new  lot.  That  was  Thursday  night.  From 
Saturday  till  midnight  on  Monday,  we  haunted  the  post- 


346     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

office,  getting  a  special  permit  for  receiving  the  late 
mail.  At  last  the  longed-for  package  arrived  and  Maz- 
zini  went  to  work  in  short  order. 

Meanwhile,  we  had  been  passing  the  time  as  best  we 
might.  The  weather  was  damp  and  cold,  with  more 
or  less  rain.  Macerata  itself  is  almost  completely 
despoiled  of  pictures.  Of  its  many  Crivellis  but  one 
remains,  London  being  the  gainer,  and  that  one  is  a 
badly  treated  rectangular  panel,  framed  as  an  oval. 
Had  we  arrived  a  month  earlier,  we  might  have  passed 
our  time  profitably  at  the  exhibition  of  March  painting, 
which  had  been  recently  dispersed,  so  recently,  indeed, 
that  at  Fano  and  Cingoli  we  found  the  returned  paint- 
ings not  yet  unboxed,  though  Italian  courtesy  had  given 
us  a  prompt  view  of  them. 

One  day  we  spent  driving  to  Loreto,  by  way  of 
Recanati.  After  the  speed  and  ease  of  the  Fiat,  the 
lumbering  horses  and  ironshod  wheels  were  anything 
but  comfortable.  The  pictures  consoled  us.  The  Lottos 
at  Recanati  outrival  those  at  Bergamo.  The  muni- 
cipio  contains  a  six-panelled  altarpiece.  The  Vir- 
gin, full  of  a  queenly  dignity,  sits  enthroned,  while 
the  infant  Christ  blesses  a  kneeling  St.  Dominic. 
Stately  figures  of  Urban  and  Gregory,  clad  in  their 
papal  robes,  give  contrast  to  the  music-making  angels 
who  sit  on  the  step  of  the  throne.  The  side  panels, 
with  their  figures  of  saints,  are  also  fine.  One  wants 
to  chorus  with  Mr.  Berenson  his  admiration  for  the 
robust  St.  Vitus,  who   is  splendid.    Lotto  has  less 


Alinari  photo.  Recanati. 
LORENZO  LOTTO  "ANNUNCIATION." 


347 


/ 


Jesi,  Macerata,  Recanati,  Loreto  349 

success  with  another  subject,  the  Transfiguration,  which 
proves  too  much  for  him. 


Collection  of  Mr.  Louis  R.  Ehrich, 
New  York. 

LORENZO  LOTTO  A  YOUNG  WIDOW. 


The  church  of  San  Domenico  holds  another  Lotto,  a 
St.  Vincent  Ferrer,  who  sits  in  a  glory  of  clouds  and 


35°     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


angels.  Earnest  and  ascetic,  he  preaches  his  text, 
"Fear  God  and  honour  Him,  for  the  day  of  His  judg- 
ment is  at  hand."    The  church  of  Santa  Maria  Sopra 


Alinari  photo. 

SIGNORELLI  DETAIL  OF  A  CEILING. 


Mercanti  contains  Lotto's  Annunciation,  a  rather  start- 
ling picture.  The  dash  with  which  the  angel  finishes 
his  flight  impresses  us,  as  it  so  evidently  does  the 
frightened  Virgin  and  the  scampering  cat.  Above  a 
charming  glimpse  of  tree  and  arbour,  we  see  God  the 


35i 


Jesi,  Macerata,  Recanati,  Loreto  353 

Father,  who  seems  Himself  to  be  infected  with  Gabriel's 
activity.  All  in  all,  it  is  a  work  that  interests  without 
being  elevated  in  tone.  A  very  fine  portrait  by  Lotto 
has  recently  come  to  America.  Through  the  kindness 
of  the  owner,  Mr.  Louis  Ehrich,  I  am  able  to  reproduce 
it.  Lotto  never  placed  upon  canvas  a  more  charming 
face  than  that  of  this  quiet  young  widow. 

Loreto  is  twenty  miles  from  Macerata  and  a  long 
four  beyond  Recanati.  Its  great  celebrity  as  a  pil- 
grimage-town is  due  to  the  possession  of  the  "  House  of 
the  Virgin,"  said  to  have  been  miraculously  brought 
from  Nazareth  by  the  hands  of  angels.  The  house  is  now 
surrounded  by  a  sumptuous  church.  Many  sculptors, 
architects,  and  painters  have  taken  part  in  the  decora- 
tion of  the  h'oly  place.  Chief  interest  lies  in  the  works 
of  Melozzo,  Signorelli,  and  their  assistants,  with  which 
two  of  the  sacristies  are  adorned.  Signorelli 's  works 
are  early.  Christ  and  the  disciples,  less  Judas,  are 
placed  in  pairs  on  the  walls.  Christ  and  the  doubting 
Thomas  make  the  best  group.  We  see  also  a  youthful 
Paul,  stricken  on  his  way  to  Damascus.  But,  for  the  real 
joy  of  the  decoration,  one  must  look  upward  to  the  an- 
gels, who,  with  the  evangelists  and  the  fathers  of  the 
church,  fill  the  vault.  They  possess  a  refined  charm 
that  Signorelli  entirely  lacks  in  his  stronger,  later 
works.  Melozzo's  ceiling,  executed  in  part  by  Pal- 
mezzano,  his  pupil,  also  gets  its  charm  from  the  angels. 
The  accompanying  prophets  are  tiresome,  but  the 

angels — who  can  describe  them !    Bearing  symbols  of 
23 


354     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

the  passion,  with  outspread  wings  and  flowing  draper- 
ies, they  seem  suspended  in  relief  against  the  vaulted 
background. 

Facing  the  church  is  the  Apostolic  Palace,  with  a 
picture  gallery  containing  a  round  dozen  of  late  works 
by  Lotto,  who  spent  the  last  years  of  his  life  in  Loreto, 
dedicating  his  all  to  the  religious  house  in  return  for 
support  during  the  remainder  of  his  days.  The  Sacri- 
fice of  Melckisedek  and  the  Presentation  in  the  Temple 
are  fine  works.  The  others  are  not  particularly 
pleasing. 

We  found  the  ride  back  to  Macerata  a  long  one.  The 
horses  were  weary  and  we  walked  all  the  hills  in  order 
to  lighten  their  load.  It  was  long  past  dinner-time 
when  we  reached  the  hotel.  The  head- waiter,  whose 
continual  determination  to  make  us  comfortable  we 
could  but  insufficiently  reward,  saw  that  our  dinner 
was  satisfactory.  One  of  the  party  asked  for  a  second 
joint  of  chicken,  and  behold,  the  drumstick  was  brought 
in!  We  had  forgotten  the  Italian  custom  of  serving 
fowls  with  their  lower  limbs  in  full.  Dinner  was  ended 
by  the  enticing  Zabaglione,  made  with  yolk  of  egg, 
sugar,  marsala,  and  water,  whipped  and  served  hot. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


MONTE     SAN     GIUSTO,     BELFORTE,     FOLIGNO,  SPELLO, 
ASSISI,  GUBBIO. 

r  I  ^HE  friction  discs  having  arrived,  it  took  Mazzini 


but  a  short  time  to  put  them  in  place.  At 


eight  o'clock  on  Tuesday  morning  we  left  our 
kind  hosts  and  started  down  the  tedious  hill  up  which 
the  cows  had  piloted  us  five  days  previously.  Our 
long  delay  had  overcome  the  possibility  of  going  to 
Ascoli  to  see  a  fine  Crivelli.  Before  starting  westward, 
however,  we  ran  up  to  Monte  San  Giusto,  east  of  Pau- 
sula,  where  Lotto  has  left  a  most  impressive  Crucifixion. 
The  picture  is  faulty  in  many  respects,  but  the  high, 
slender  crosses,  standing  against  the  sky,  make  one 
forget  the  imperfections  of  the  foreground. 

We  take  our  former  road  back  to  Tolentino,  there 
turning  to  the  left  and  continuing  to  follow  the  valley 
of  the  Chienti.  We  are  soon  running  up-hill  into  the 
little  town  of  Belforte,  never  before  visited  by  an  auto- 
mobile. The  engine  stops.  We  enter  the  little  church 
and  are  translated  into  a  peace  and  quietness  produced 
and  dominated  by  the  supreme  work  of  art  which  faces 
us.  No  picture  by  an  early  master  has  so  impressed 
me.    Boccatis  of  Camerino  is  the  artist  who  casts  his 


355 


356     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

spell  upon  us.  Dignified  and  spiritual,  the  archaic- 
ness  of  the  picture  but  adds  to  a  charm  of  whose 
strength  a  photograph  can  convey  no  idea.  May  the 
fame  of  Boccatis  some  day  become  equal  to  the  power 
of  the  appeal  that  he  makes  to  receptive  souls! 

Beyond  Belforte  we  keep  to  the  main  road  across 
the  mountains.  Camerino  we  leave  to  the  north. 
.  Twenty-five  miles  from  Tolentino,  we  are  at  Serravalle. 
Our  early  breakfast  being  by  this  time  forgotten,  we 
stopped  at  the  cantina,  with  its  "salt,  stamps,  and 
tobacco"  sign,  hopeful  of  getting  something  to  eat. 
Eggs,  shirred  in  oil  on  the  hearth,  chunky,  brownish 
bread,  and  local  wine  were  all  that  one  could  ask  for. 
Much  refreshed,  we  started  upward  again  to  find  the 
bright  sunshine  for  which  we  had  long  sought  in  vain. 
We  soon  came  out  upon  a  wondrous  table-land,  some 
six  miles  across,  with  mountains  rising  from  all  its 
boundaries  much  as  they  rise  from  the  plateau  in  our 
own  western  country.  We  were  at  an  elevation  of 
twenty-five  hundred  feet  and  the  December  air,  fresh 
and  crisp  after  the  long  rain,  did  our  lungs  good. 
Here  and  there  lay  banks  of  cloud,  adding  charm  to 
the  landscape.  Springtime  must  make  this  plain  of 
Colfiorito  a  very  mass  of  wild  flowers.  The  road  rises  a 
bit  at  the  end  of  the  plain,  runs  between  hills,  and  then 
drops  sharply,  around  dangerous  curves,  to  Foligno. 
The  Marches  are  behind  us  and  we  are  again  in  Umbria, 
twenty-two  miles  south  of  Perugia. 

Foligno 's  earliest  paintings  of  importance  are  by  no 


Monte  San  Giusto,  Belforte,  Foligno  359 


native  painter.  Ottaviano  Nelli,  of  Gubbio,  coming, 
in  1424,  at  the  invitation  of  Corrado  de'  Trinci,  Lord 
of  Foligno,  frescoed  the  palace  chapel  with  scenes  from 
the  life  of  the  Virgin.  Though  we  take  into  account 
the  repainting  and  restoration  from  which  these  works 
have  suffered,  we  nevertheless  feel  sure  that  Nelli 's 
refinement,  shown  in  his  earlier  Madonna  at  Gubbio, 
has  given  place  to  a  coarse  carelessness  that  does  away 
with  all  but  historic  interest.  Far  different  is  it  with 
the  excellent  Niccolo  Alunno,  who  has  decorated  his 
native  town  with  many  attractive  works.  A  pupil  of 
Benozzo,  who  worked  at  near-by  Montefalco,  he  did 
sterling  work.  Outside  Foligno,  we  may  see  good 
pictures  by  him  in  Rome,  Bologna,  Milan,  and  our 
own  Fogg  Museum.  Niccolo  was  inclined  to  over- 
expressiveness,  following  a  lead  opened  to  him  by  Cri- 
velli.  In  Foligno,  San  Niccolo  is  best  worth  a  visit, 
for  his  Coronation  and  Nativity.  The  latter,  an  ancona 
in  many  parts,  bears  a  date  that  is  easy  to  remember, — 
1492.  Mezzastri  was  another  painter  of  Foligno  who 
came  under  the  influence  of  Benozzo 's  art.  Foligno 
contains  several  of  his  frescoes. 

Spello,  lying  picturesquely  three  miles  to  the  north 
of  Foligno,  calls  Pinturicchio  to  mind,  for  it  was  there 
he  painted  some  of  his  most  attractive  frescoes.  En- 
tering an  old  gateway  of  Roman  foundation,  flanked 
by  a  tower,  upon  whose  top  grows  a  sturdy  tree,  we 
mount  upward  to  the  cathedral  church  of  Santa  Maria 
Maggiore.    Pinturicchio's  frescoes  are  in  a  dimly  lighted 


360     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

chapel  to  the  left.  The  custode  aids  our  view  with 
light  thrown  by  silver-papered  reflectors  from  the 
opened  door.  Unsatisfactory  as  the  lighting  is,  we 
can  see  enough  of  the  decorative  effect  to  admire  it. 
Pinturicchio's  works  here  antedate  by  a  year  or  so  his 
frescoes  in  Siena's  library.  We  liked  best  the  Jesus 
among  the  Doctors.  The  artist  casts  aside  the  proverbial 
composition  and  brings  his  figures  into  the  open,  giving 
opportunity  for  the  expression  of  the  Umbrian  love 
of  far-stretching  landscape.  The  central  background 
is  filled  by  a  Bramantesque  temple,  a  setting  drawn 
from  Perugino. 

Assisi,  well-known  to  all  of  us,  had  been  left,  a  choice 
morsel,  till  near  the  end  of  our  Umbrian  feast.  One 
fine  morning  we  sallied  forth  from  the  Brufani.  We 
stopped  a  moment  at  Bastia  for  a  look  at  Alunno's 
Madonna,  which,  in  its  date,  1499,  negatives  the  asser- 
tion, made  by  the  compilers  of  the  National  Gallery 
catalogue,  that  the  artist  died  in  1492.  The  work  is 
somewhat  hard  in  tone  and  shows  the  influence  of 
Crivelli.  Below  Assisi,  we  enter  the  church  of  Santa 
Maria  degli  Angeli,  built  over  the  spot  where  Saint 
Francis  had  his  first  chapel,  the  portiuncula,  which 
stands  under  the  dome  of  the  present  church.  Ad- 
jacent are  the  cell  of  St.  Francis  and  his  rose  garden, 
with  its  thornless  roses.  Fiorenzo's  Annunciation, 
once  to  be  seen  here,  has  found  a  home  in  America. 

Assisi,  with  her  grandly  bastioned  church,  her  citadel, 
and  Monte  Subasio,  fills  the  eye  to  satisfaction.    As  we 


Spello,  Assisi,  Gubbio  363 

looked  up  at  her,  over  the  olive  groves  that  stood  richly 
contrasted  with  the  darkness  of  the  new-ploughed 
soil,  we  forgot  all  other  visions  given  by  Italy  and 
crowned  Assisi  queen.  Assisi  is  ancient.  Her  temple 
of  Minerva  and  the  remains  of  her  forum  (now  under- 
ground) take  us  back  to  Roman  times.  But  our  inter- 
est does  not  extend  to  these.  St.  Francis  is  all  one 
cares  for  here,  though  we  remember  St.  Clara  because 
she  shines  by  his  reflected  light.  She,  too,  has  her 
church,  where  she  lies,  mummy-like,  to  be  inspected  by 
the  curious,  who  may,  for  a  few  coppers,  purchase  a 
pinch  of  the  dust  from  her  coffin.  "  To  such  base  uses ! ' ' 
vSt.  Francis's  double  church  is  endlessly  interesting  to  a 
lover  of  early  art,  but  its  description  lies  beyond  me. 
Upper  church  and  lower  are  covered  with  innumerable 
frescoes,  among  which  those  of  Giotto  and  his  pupils 
are  the  most  attractive,  spreading  before  us,  as  they 
do,  the  panorama  of  the  Franciscan  legend.  We  must 
not  overlook  the  works  of  Simone  Martini  and  Pietro 
Lorenzetti  or  the  half-gone  frescoes  by  some  great 
pre-Giottesque  master,  the  breadth  of  whose  style 
astonishes  us,  here  and  there,  in  the  upper  church. 

To  choose  one's  favourite  among  Giotto's  Assisi  works 
is  not  easy.  The  Crucifixion  and  Visitation  of  the 
lower  church  and  the  Francis  Preaching  to  the  Birds,  in 
the  much  repainted  upper-church  series,  are  extremely 
fine.  Taken  as  a  whole,  however,  one  still  prefers  the 
nobler  frescoes  of  Padua. 

Before  going  back  to  Perugia,  we  ran  up  the  valley 


364     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

of  the  Chiaggio,  visiting  Petrignano,  San  Gregorio, 
with  its  old  castle  and  browsing  sheep,  and  Rocca  di 
Petrignano,  higher  up  among  the  hills,  with  a  small  but 
interesting  old  church,  whose  walls  are  covered  with 
frescoes  by  local  followers  of  Fiorenzo.  There  are  some 
earlier  works  (notably  a  Flight  into  Egypt  behind  the 
high  altar,  by  a  Giottesque  master),  which  are  really 
splendid. 

We  had  left  the  car  some  distance  below  the  town, 
as  the  rest  of  the  way  was  a  mere  track.  We  walked 
back,  down  the  hill,  followed  by  a  troup  of  children, 
who  became  most  excited  when  they  saw  the  long, 
red  machine.  Their  exclamations,  when  told  that  it 
went  without  horses  but  had  forty  little  horses  in  its 
insides,  were  a  delight.  We  pumped  them  full  of  ex- 
planations in  answer  to  their  questions.  We  were 
soon  on  the  main  road  again  for  an  uneventful  run  to 
Perugia. 

Information  was  at  hand  to  the  effect  that  the  Tiber 
road  to  Gubbio  had  been  repaired,  so  we  decided  to  go. 
The  outward  trip  was  over  the  mountains,  through 
Piccione,  a  way  excellent,  though  steep.  In  getting  to 
an  altitude  of  twenty-three  hundred  feet,  we  had  some 
fine  views,  though,  as  always,  we  "missed  the  trees  with 
which  the  now  bare  mountains  were  once  covered. 
The  green  of  the  home  trees  is  a  comfort  to  the  eye  of 
Americans  who  return  after  a  sojourn  in  Italy.  The 
olive  and  the  cypress  become  dear  to  the  traveller  but 
they  can  never  take  the  place  of  the  maple. 


/ 

Spello,  Assisi,  Gubbio  365 

Gubbio  is  twenty-five  miles  from  Perugia.  Before  an 
hour  had  passed,  we  were  in  sight  of  it.  Lying  at  the 
foot  of  Monte  Ingino,  Gubbio  adds  one  more  to  the 
long  list  of  picturesque  Italian  towns.  She  has  her 
distinctive  qualities,  savours  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and, 
like  her  conspicuous  4 'Palace  of  the  Consuls"  on  its 
buttresses,  holds  herself  stiffly  and  proudly  erect.  On 
the  far  hilltop  behind  her  stands  the  convent  of  the 


...     ■   .  ■  .    "  '  4 

GUBBIO. 

bishop-saint,  Ubaldo,  Gubbio's  patron.  We  ran  first 
to  Santa  Maria,  with  its  Madonna,  the  best  work  of 
Ottaviano  Nelli,  attractive  in  colour  and  design.  Out- 
side the  adjacent  gate  of  the  town  is  the  church  of  Sant' 
Agostino,  with  recently  discovered  choir  frescoes  by 
Nelli  which  show  traces  of  Taddeo  Bartoli's  influence. 
Some  of  the  heads  are  excellent. 

The  Piazza  Signoria  and  its  two  palaces  of  the  Consuls 


366     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

and  the  Commune  are  built  on  massive  substructures 
which  vie  with  those  at  Assisi.  Noon  was  being  rung 
from  the  Consul  tower  as  we  came  up,  rung  from  the  big 
bell  whose  tones,  they  say,  a  strong  Tramontana  will 
carry  as  far  as  Perugia.  The  ringers  stood  in  the  tower, 
using  the  leverage  of  their  weight  upon  a  tilting  beam 
to  send  the  great  bell  now  this  way  and  now  that.  We 
left  them  still  ringing  and  mounted  the  steps  to  the 
museum,  where  are  the  celebrated  bronze  tablets, 
which  give,  in  an  Italic  dialect,  ancient  religious  formu- 
las. The  pictures  here  are  not  important.  We  may 
note  that  an  adoring  Madonna,  accompanied  by  the 
young  Baptist,  belongs,  not  to  Neri  di  Bicci,  to  whom 
it  is  attributed,  but  to  the  pseudo  Pier  Francesco 
Fiorentino.  We  saw  but  little  of  the  majolica  for 
which  Gubbio  was  once  famous. 

The  ducal  palace  has  been  allowed  to  go  to  ruin. 
It  was  a  fine  building,  tastefully  proportioned,  with 
windows  whose  terra-cotta  decorations  still  command 
our  admiration.  The  palace  must  surely  have  been 
placed  by  an  aesthetic  soul,  for  its  outlook  on  the 
mountains,  the  old  ivy-covered  walls,  and  the  green- 
sodded  amphitheatre  of  Roman  days,  is  a  splendid  one. 
Our  guide  told  us  that  a  restoration  of  the  building  is 
contemplated. 

After  lunch  at  the  Albergo  San  Marco,  we  started 
back  to  Perugia,  following  the  miniature  railroad  to 
Umbertide,  on  the  Tiber.  This  was  a  roundabout 
route  but  we  took  it  for  the  opportunity  it  gave  of 


Spello,  Assisi,  Gubbio  367 

seeing  Signorelli's  Descent  from  the  Cross  in  Umbertide's 
oddly  shaped  church  of  Santa  Croce.  The  picture, 
painted  when  the  artist  was  an  old  man,  is  of  equal 
dignity  with  its  subject.  Its  condition  is  poor  and  will 
become  worse,  under  the  indifferent  treatment  to  which 
it  is  very  evidently  subjected.  The  overpowering  bar- 
oque frame  is  a  detraction. 

From  Umbertide  we  ran  beside  the  Tiber  for  several 
miles,  finding  the  road  in  such  excellent  condition  that 
we  laughed  at  the  stories  of  flood-damage  that  we  had 
heard.  But  we  did  n't  laugh  for  long.  Striking  a 
place  where  the  roadway  ran  close  to  the  river,  we 
found  that  it  had  been  terribly  washed,  but  made 
practicable  again  by  a  filling  of  large  pebbles.  We 
made  our  way  with  difficulty,  expecting  that  each 
curve  would  bring  us  in  sight  of  good  road  once  more- 
One  mile  we  went,  and  two,  and  three,  and  still  no  re- 
lief. The  road  became  even  worse  and  the  pebbles 
grew  in  size,  until  riding  over  them  was  anything  but 
comfortable.  Mazzini  and  the  Fiat  were  undaunted, 
however.  At  last  we  met  our  Waterloo.  The  road 
took  a  sudden  drop  of  about  four  feet,  beyond  which 
the  repairs  followed  the  lower  level.  "  I  can  make  it 
all  right,"  declared  Mazzini,  whose  recklessness  had  to 
surrender,  however,  to  the  pertinent  question:  "How 
are  you  going  to  go  up  a  four-foot  break,  over  loose 
pebbles,  when  you  get  to  the  other  end?"  So  Mazzini 
had  to  turn  back  again,  protesting.  We  soon  found  a 
small  cross-road  that  led  up  from  the  hamlet  of  La 


368     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Forra,  over  the  steep  mountain  to  the  west.  Steep  it 
was  indeed,  and  no  mistake.  Our  hard  run  through 
the  pebbles  had  given  the  engine  all  it  could  do  and 
the  further  dose  of  a  terrific  grade  was  a  severe  test, 
through  wThich  the  machine  came  with  flying  colours. 
The  worst  grade  was  just  outside  of  Perugia,  leading 
up  to  the  Porta  del  Bulagaio.  Visitors  to  Perugia  may 
see  the  hill  for  themselves  if  they  take  a  pleasant  walk 
just  outside  the  gate. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


SPOLETO,  NORCIA,  THE  COLLE  RADICINO,  AQU.ILA. 

LL  good  things  come  to  an  end.    One  fine  day 


we  said  good-bye  to  our  kind  hosts  of  the  Brufani. 


Bastia,  Assisi,  Spello,  and  Foligno  showed  us 
in  turn  their  familiar  faces.  The  old  woman  selling 
chestnuts  sat,  as  usual,  at  Foligno's  gate,  avoiding  the 
local  dazio,  or  food  tax,  by  sitting  just  outside  the 
limits  of  the  town's  authority.  Passing  beyond  Trevi, 
pyramidal  on  its  hill,  we  came  to  splendid  groves  of  oak 
whose  equal  we  had  not  seen,  and  to  the  source  of  the 
Clitumnus,  described,  at  wide  periods  of  time,  by 
Pliny  and  Byron.  The  spot  is  a  lovely  one,  even  in 
winter.  Summer  finds  it  a  favourite  lunch-place  for 
automobilists  from  Rome.  A  few  miles  more  and  we 
are  at  Spoleto. 

Spoleto's  Albergo,  the  Lucini,  looks  like  a  transformed 
antiquary-shop,  so  full  is  it  of  old  furniture  and  pic- 
tures— " truck"  as  we  called  it,  after  examining  its 
quality.  There  might  be  something  valuable  in  the  lot 
but  we  were  unable  to  discover  it.  The  hotel  furnished 
us  with  excellent  accommodation  and  I  ought  not  to 
say  anything  offensive  to  its  objects  of  art.  Perhaps, 
even,  one  might  find  that  they  are  not  for  sale.  How- 

24  369 


37°     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

ever  that  may  be,  I  feel  certain  that  those  of  mv  readers 
t 

who  investigate  the  matter  will  at  once  discard  the 
sour  grapes  theory. 


OAKS  NEAR  TREVI. 


Spoleto  is  ancient.  I  get  tired  of  writing  that  about 
town  after  town.  The  races  that  have  inhabited  Italy 
seem  a  conservative  lot,  with  "once  a  town  always 
a  town"  as  their  motto.  Spoleto  was  first  Umbrian, 
a  period  that  gives  us  interesting  remains  of  polygonal 


Spoleto,  Norcia,  the  Colle  Radicino,  Aquila  371 

walls.  Then  she  became  a  colony  of  Rome  and  soon 
won  glory  by  her  repulse  of  Hannibal.  Roman  works 
are  numerous,  among  them  an  arch,  erected  to  Drusus 
and  Germanicus,  and  the  remains  of  a  house  which, 
inscriptions  tell  us,  belonged  to  the  mother  of  the  Em- 
peror Vespasian.  At  the  top  of  the  hill  on  which  the 
town  lies,  is  the  old  fortress,  built  in  the  fourteenth 
century  on  the  site  of  the  ancient  citadel.  Sunset 


THE  SOURCE  OF  THE  CLITUMNUS. 


found  us  passing  under  its  massive  walls,  whose  sen- 
tries keep  strict  guard,  for  the  fortress  is  now  a  prison. 
Passing  beyond  it,  one  comes  out  upon  a  view  that  the 
visitor  must  not  miss.  Beyond  a  deep  ravine  Monte 
Luco  rises  high,  splendid  in  her  covering  of  holm-oaks, 
and  celebrated,  in  days  long  past,  for  her  many  hermit 
habitants.  The  gorge,  through  which  flows  the  Tessino, 
is  spanned  by  a  bridge  set  on  tall  stilts  of  brick,  the 
longest  with  a  length  of  three  hundred  feet.  Roman 


372     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

in  foundation,  built  up  by  the  dukes  of  Spoleto  in  the 
fore-part  of  the  seventh  century,  it  has,  with  subse- 
quent repairs,  come  down  to  us  as  a  mute  witness  to 
restrain  our  ardent  championship  of  the  modern  age 
that  boasts  its  scientific  constructions.  Rome  can  give 
us  lessons  in  brickwork.  What  must  Constantine's 
great  basilica  have  been  in  its  glory,  when  we  gaze  in 
admiration  at  what  was  merely  a  side  aisle!  Go  to 
Rome's  forum  and  note  the  aspiring  spring  of  the 
broken  arch  that  soars  heavenward.  Nothing  of  to- 
day can  compare  with  it. 

From  Florence  came  Fra  Filippo  to  paint  for  Spoleto's 
cathedral  scenes  from  the  life  of  the  Virgin,  which  he 
did  not  live  to  finish.  The  Coronation  in  the  half  dome 
of  the  apse,  with  its  decorative  glory  of  red  and  blue, 
is  almost  wholly  by  his  hand.  Damaged  though  it  be, 
its  beauty  is  still  sufficient  to  make  it  the  most  import- 
ant work  of  the  master.  Breadth  and  dignity  are  here  in 
fuller  measure  than  is  usually  afforded  by  that  "  f rater 
Philippus"  who  painted  the  winsome  young  Baptist 
of  Berlin's  adoring  Madonna.  God  the  Father,  truly 
patriarchal,  crowns  and  blesses  the  kneeling  Virgin, 
while  the  angel  hosts  attend  with  song  and  adoration. 
Fra  Filippo's  tomb,  which,  by  inscription  and  coat  of 
arms,  proclaims  its  erection  by  Lorenzo  the  Magnifi- 
cent, is  in  a  near-by  chapel.  The  artist's  likeness,  with 
its  elongated  skull,  betrays  scant  resemblance  to  that 
he  himself  gave  us  in  the  Florence  Academy. 

Lo  Spagna,  pupil  of  Perugino,  is  another  artist  whose 


Spoleto,  Norcia,  the  Colle  Radicino,  Aquila  375 

work  may  be  seen  to  advantage  in  and  near  Spoleto.  The 
best  example  is  that  in  the  gallery,  the  Virgin  and  Child 
with  Jerome,  Francis,  Catherine,  and  Brizius.  A  recent 
American  writer,  in  his  admiration  for  this  work,  won- 
ders "what  Lo  Spagna,  who  died  before  he  was  twenty- 
four,  would  have  accomplished  had  he  lived  to  the  al- 
lotted age."  We  do  not  know  the  date  of  Lo  Spagna's 
birth,  but  he  was  working  independently  at  Todi  in 
1 507.  Works  by  him  date  as  late  as  1 526  and  there  exists 
an  account  of  money  paid  to  him  in  1528.  Assuming  his 
death  in  the  latter  year,  we  have  him,  according  to  Mr. 
Williams,  an  independent  master  at  the  age  of  three! 
Lo  Spagna  painted  many  pleasing  works  but  was 
lacking  in  the  initiative  that  goes  with  genius.  Copying 
a  composition  was  preferable  to  originating  one  of  his 
own.  So  it  is  that  at  Todi  and  Trevi  he  copies  Ghirlan- 
dajo's  Narni  picture,  at  the  church  of  San  Giacomo,  near 
Spoleto,  he  copies  Fra  Filippo's  Coronation,  and  in  the 
Louvre  he  copies  his  own  Vatican  picture,  by  almost 
exactly  reversing  it.  Withal,  he  was  a  pleasing  master 
and  we  enjoyed  seeking  out  his  works  at  Spoleto. 

The  day  we  left  Spoleto  proved  certainly  a  most 
strenuous  one.  We  started  early,  just  as  the  rising 
sun  tipped  the  mountain  tops.  Soon  Montefalco 
and  distant  Perugia  felt  the  waking  day,  and  pinnacle 
and  tower  sparkled  back  at  us.  Ours  was  to  be  a  "na- 
ture day,"  and  it  began  right  royally.  From  Spoleto  we 
ran  eastward  into  the  mountains,  breezing  along  the 
up-grade  in  the  chill  air  that  made  us  glad  of  our  warm 


376     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

wraps.  At  ten  kilometres  we  reached  the  Forca  di 
Cerro,  a  pass  whose  elevation  is  twenty-five  hundred 
feet,  and  then  ran  down  the  valley  of  the  Nera  to 
Piedipaterno,  passing,  on  the  way,  a  steam  automo- 
bile which  carries  passengers  to  Norcia.  The  wheels 
are  of  iron,  with  a  four-inch  tread.  The  car,  which 
held  perhaps  a  dozen  persons,  seemed  to  be  making 
good  time.     It  has  proved  a  boon  to  the  mountain 


THE  GRAN  SASSO  FROM  AMATRICE. 

towns  that  can  never  hope  for  a  railroad.  At  thirty 
kilometres  from  Spoleto  we  reached  Triponzo,  where 
we  crossed  the  Nera  and  began  to  ascend  the  valley 
of  the  Corno.  Here  we  ran  into  clouds,  which  stayed 
with  us  for  a  while,  making  fast  running  difficult. 
Another  twenty  kilometres  brought  us  to  Norcia, 
famous  as  the  birthplace  of  St.  Benedict.  It  is  a  busy 
little  town.    We  looked  in  vain  for  pictures,  thinking 


Spoleto,  Norcia,  the  Colle  Radicino,  Aquila  377 


that  in  such  an  out-of-the-way  place  we  might  find 
something  of  importance  that  had  been  overlooked. 
The  church  of  St.  Benedict,  with  a  fine  old  front,  was 
the  most  attractive  feature  of  the  place.  Our  early 
breakfast  needed  aid  by  this  time,  so  we  helped  it  with 
fried  eggs  and  bread.  The  Italians  certainly  can  fry 
eggs  in  a  way  that  makes  one's  mouth  water.  We 
were  still  enveloped  in  cloud  as  we  left  Norcia,  and 
stayed  so  for  several  miles.  Ascending  rapidly  we 
suddenly  came  out  above  the  cloud,  which  lay,  like  a 
sea,  below  us,  with  the  mountain  tops  visible  in  the 
distance.  On  the  Gran  Sasso,  ten  years  before,  I  had 
seen  a  similar  but  more  wonderful  effect  which  had 
starlight  and  dawn  for  aids. 

We  went  higher  and  higher  and  just  before  reaching 
the  top  of  the  pass,  the  Colle  Radicino,  height  5100 
feet,  ran  into  snow.  It  was  not  deep  enough  to  be 
troublesome.  Passing  the  summit,  we  came  into  sight 
of  the  Sibylline  Mountains,  to  the  north-east.  We 
stopped  to  enjoy  the  splendid  view  which  terminated 
to  the  south  in  the  Gran  Sasso — the  "Big  Rock," — as 
the  Italians  call  it.  The  peaks  of  the  group  are  the 
highest  in  Italy,  forming  the  north  boundary  of  the 
district  known  as  the  Abruzzi. 

Fifteen  kilometres  from  the  top  we  took  a  road  to  the 
south.  Twenty  more  and  we  were  at  Amatrice,  which 
has  a  church  with  an  interesting  doorway.  The  view 
from  the  town  is  a  splendid  one.  Thirty-five  miles  of 
a  roundabout  road,  at  an  average  elevation  of  over 


378     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

three  thousand  feet,  brought  us  to  Aquila,  the  chief 
town  of  the  Abruzzi,  which  may  be  reached  by  railroad. 

Ten  years  before,  in  December,  we  had  made  Aquila 
our  base  for  an  ascent  of  Monte  Corno,  the  highest  peak 
of  the  Gran  Sasso.  There  had  been  several  days  of  rain 
and  we  not  only  expected  a  deal  of  snow  in  the  mount- 
ains, but  were  not  over-hopeful  of  good  weather.  A 
night  spent  in  Aquila  had  been  followed  by  a  drizzly 
morning.  Taking  a  chance  on  the  weather  was  less 
trouble  than  being  bored  to  death  in  the  gloomy  hotel, 
so,  after  lunch,  we  started,  footing  it  eastward  to  the 
little  town  of  Paganica  and  then  turning  north  to  still 
smaller  Assergi,  which  lies  close  under  the  mountains. 
The  road  ran  beside  a  small  stream  whose  ample,  rocky 
bed  proved  that  the  spring  would  see  it  grow  to  a  tor- 
rent. At  one  point,  in  almost  the  bed  of  the  stream, 
had  been  built  a  little  church.  High  above,  on  a 
conspicuous  rock,  three  crosses  stood  against  the  sky. 
Italians  of  the  mountain  districts,  removed  as  they  are 
from  the  more  active  world,  have  a  simple  religious  feel- 
ing which  seems  common  to  mountain-dwellers  the 
world  over.  I  doubt  if  anywhere  else  there  are  so  many 
wayside  shrines  as  in  the  mountain  country  dominated 
by  the  Ortler,  where  Italy,  Austria,  and  Switzerland 
come  together. 

Assergi 's  hospitality  was  limited  to  a  room  at  the 
tobacconist's,  where  we  were  made  very  comfort- 
able. My  companion  drew  the  choice  of  beds  and 
selected  the  moderate  sized  one,  knowing  it  to  be 


Spoleto,  Norcia,  the  Colle  Radicino,  Aquila  383 

warmer.  The  other  was  the  largest  I  had  ever  seen, 
something  really  marvellous.  I  placed  two  great 
armchairs,  backs  down,  on  top  of  one  side  of  it,  limiting 
the  area  to  be  warmed.  Our  hostess  brought  a  large 
brazier  of  charcoal,  set  in  an  iron  frame,  which,  placed 
under  the  covers,  made  things  fine  and  comfortable  by 
the  time  we  wanted  to  turn  in. 

The  old  tobacconist,  though  holder  of  the  govern- 
ment's license  to  sell  tobacco,  salt,  and  stamps,  and  the 
most  important  man  in  town,  had  very  primitive  ideas. 
The  first  thing  we  did  was  to  arrange  for  a  guide  for  the 
morrow,  the  second  for  lunch.  Our  host  suggested 
broiled  chicken,  whereupon  his  wife  went  out  and 
captured  a  rooster,  after  which  we  all  sat  around  in  a 
circle  while  the  old  lady  cut  the  bird's  throat  and  let 
the  blood  drip  slowly  into  a  saucer.  Blood  is  an  ex- 
cellent foundation  for  gravy  and  is  sold,  in  coagulated 
cakes,  at  all  Italian  butcher  shops.  As  we  sat  there, 
the  old  man  became  talkative  and  wanted  to  know 
whence  we  came.  When  told  America,  he  wanted  to 
know  whether  North  or  South,  South  America  draw- 
ing fully  as  many  Italians  as  North  and  of  a  better 
quality.  Yes,  he  had  heard  of  New  York;  thought 
it  must  be  a  nice  place;  was  it  as  big  as  Aquila?  Big- 
ger? But  Rome,  that  was  a  great  city!  New  York 
six  times  as  large  as  Rome?    Impossible!    It's  a  joke! 

Four  o'clock  found  us  starting,  our  guide  leading  the 
way  with  a  lantern,  through  the  darkness.  There  was 
a  dense  mist  and  it  was  very  cold,  but  had  stopped 


384     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

raining.  Up  over  mountain  pastures,  rocky  and  reek- 
ing with  dew,  the  path  led.  After  a  while  it  seemed 
to  grow  lighter  and  in  a  moment  I  was  calling  attention 
to  a  peculiar  luminosity  that  shone  through  the  mist, 
almost  directly  overhead.  Could  it  be  the  moon?  No- 
where except  in  Egypt  had  I  seen  her  so  high  in  the 
heavens.  A  moment  more  and  the  mystery  was  solved. 
We  emerged  from  the  cloud  and  found  Sirius  blazing 
down  upon  us  in  a  fairly  startling  manner.  And  the 
other  stars,  how  can  one  describe  them!  The  days  of 
bad  weather  had  cleared  the  atmosphere  wonderfully, 
with  a  result  that  we  can  never  forget.  Above  us,  the 
heavens  dazzled,  while  below  was  a  scene  of  no  less 
beauty,  clouds  stretching  away  endlessly  under  the 
starlight,  like  some  great  billowy  ocean.  To  the  south- 
east the  noble  form  of  the  Majella  rose  majestic,  silent, 
and  white.  Day  broke,  and  with  the  change  came 
beauty  of  another  sort,  but  no  less  rare.  The  whole 
mass  of  cloud  beneath  us  seemed  suddenly  to  catch 
the  warming  influence  of  the  great  orb,  as  billow  after 
billow  grew  pink  and  opalescent.  We  ceased  to  climb, 
having  no  heart  to  turn  our  backs  on  such  a  glory. 
One  might  with  skill  produce  a  photograph  of  the  scene, 
but  the  colour  that  gave  it  life  was  but  for  the  time,  and 
we  can  only  cherish  it  in  memory.  The  illustration, 
taken  elsewhere,  gives  a  very  fair  idea  of  the  clouds 
themselves. 

Some  time  before  this  we  had  reached  snow  and  our 
guide  remarked  that  it  would  be  deep  above,  and  in- 


Spoleto,  Norcia,  the  Colle  Radicino,  Aquila  387 

deed  it  was.  Reaching  the  hut  of  the  Italian  Alpine 
Club,  in  a  level  spot,  twenty-five  hundred  feet  below 
the  summit,  we  found  it  simply  buried  in  snow.  It 
was  some  time  before  we  could  dig  our  way  in  and  force 
the  door.  Lunch  had  difficulty  in  keeping  pace  with 
our  appetite.  We  were  soon  on  our  way  again.  Monte 
Corno,  Intermesole,  and  the  other  fine  peaks  were  com- 
pletely covered  with  snow.  This  at  first  proved  an  aid 
rather  than  *a  hindrance  and  we  were  able  rapidly  to 
scale  what  was  ordinarily  a  difficult  rock  wall.  Follow- 
ing the  usual  route  and  crossing  over  to  the  far  side  of 
the  ridge,  we  came  upon  snow,  in  which,  at  times,  we 
floundered  almost  to  our  necks.  The  guide  broke  the 
way  for  a  few  feet  and  gave  it  up.  Taking  the  lead,  I 
did  but  little  better,  and  it  was  owing  only  to  the 
mountaineering  skill  of  my  companion  that  we  finally 
reached  the  summit.  "Thanks  be  to  God  for  the 
mountains"  some  one  has  inscribed  on  the  rocks  that 
top  Old  Whiteface  in  the  Adirondacks.  My  boyhood's 
memory  of  it  came  back  as  I  drank  in  the  horizon  at 
the  end  of  the  ascent.  To  west,  the  sea,  to  east,  the 
sea,  and  beyond,  the  snow-clad  mountains  of  Dalmatia. 
Such  is  what  the  Gran  Sasso  holds  for  her  conquerors. 
Our  day  was  perfect  and  we  did  indeed  thank  God  for 
the  mountains. 

Aquila  contains  little  of  interest  beyond  the  facades 
of  the  churches  of  S.  Maria  di  Collemaggio  and 
of  San  Bernardino.  The  latter  contains  the  tomb  of 
Siena's  great  Franciscan  saint,  whose  name  it  bears. 


388     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Bernardino  died  at  Aquila  in  1444,  worn  out  by  that 
missionary  work  which  his  great  eloquence  had  made 
so  successful. 

We  had  a  late  lunch  at  Aquila,  with  a  hurried  bit  of 
sightseeing  afterwards,  and  then  sped  away  west- 
ward. After  going  a  few  miles  the  Gran  Sasso,  ruddy 
in  the  late  sun,  afforded  a  splendid  view.  Our  road, 
running  through  the  mountains,  took  us  over  the  Sella 
di  Corno,  just  as  the  moon  rose.  The  silvery  land- 
scape filled  us  with  poetic  delight,  which  disintegrated 
as  we  plunged  into  the  dark  ravine  above  Antrodoco, 
where  the  breccia  very  promptly  produced  a  puncture. 
We  were  tired  but  worked  with  a  will  and  were  soon 
on  our  way  again,  entertaining  visions  of  Rieti  and 
dinner,  when  "pop"  went  another  puncture.  Another 
inner  tube,  another  turn  about  at  pumping,  and  fifteen 
miles  in  the  moonlight,  over  a  good  road,  brought  us 
to  Rieti  and  the  Inn  of  the  White  Cross.  It  had  been 
the  longest  day  of  our  trip  and  we  slept  soundly  on 
top  of  it. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


RIETI,  TERNI,  TODI,  ORVIETO,  VITERBO,  FERENTO,  VILLA 

LANTE. 

RIETI  was  the  ancient  capital  of  the  Sabines 
but  nothing  interesting  remains  to  her  from 
that  period.  A  Madonna  by  Antoniazzo 
is  her  chief  work  of  art.  We  left  next  morning  with 
lazy  lateness  and  ran  down  the  broad  valley  of  the 
"  Velino  to  Piediluco,  whose  castled  mountain  lies  re- 
flected in  the  quiet  waters  of  the  lake.  Four  miles  be- 
yond, the  Velino  makes  a  leap  into  freedom  which 
forms  the  triple  fall,  over  six  hundred  feet  in  height, 
whose  beauty  is  celebrated.  A  short  walk  from  the 
road  takes  one  to  a  view-point  whose  only  detraction 
is  a  spray  bath.  Far  below  lies  the  Nera,  toward 
which  the  Velino  so  anxiously  leaps.  The  glistening 
foliage  adds  not  a  little  to  the  beauty  of  it  all. 

Terni,  where  we  stopped  for  lunch,  lies  a  few  miles 
below  the  falls.  It  is  a  busy  manufacturing  town. 
En  route  once  more,  Narni  drew  us  with  its  fine  old 
walls,  its  Ghirlandajo  Coronation,  and  the  Roman 
bridge  that  once  carried  the  Via  Flaminia  over  the 
Nera.  But  one  arch  remains,  a  fit  study  in  beauty  of 
proportion. 

389 


39°     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

The  road  to  Todi,  thirty  odd  miles  away,  seemed 
plain  enough,  but  we  missed  it  somehow  and  found  our- 
selves at  Massa  Martana,  a  small  place  of  no  interest. 
Back- tracking,  we  were  soon  in  sight  of  our  destination 
but  were  not  to  get  there  without  a  tremendously  stiff 
grade  that  led  up  into  the  piazza  from  the  south-east. 
It  was  another  one  of  those  places  where  the  only 
thing  to  do  is  to  go  ahead.  The  ''Samsons"  held  well 
on  the  paving-stones  and  we  went  up  in  fine  shape. 
We  could  never  get  used  to  the  Fiat's  ability  as  a  hill- 
climber. 

The  cathedral,  to  which  many  steps  lead  up,  fills 
the  north  end  of  the  piazza.  The  facade  is  interesting, 
with  its  fine  rose-window  and  sculptured  portal.  Above, 
to  left  and  right,  are  carved  figures  of  Gabriel 
and  the  Virgin,  excellent  works.  The  adjacent  Palazzo 
Pubblico,  with  some  interesting  windows,  contains  Lo 
Spagna's  Coronation,  sl  work  whose  softness  of  tone 
and  type  makes  interesting  a  comparison  with  Ghirlan- 
dajo's  picture  at  Narni,  which  served  as  its  prototype. 
LoSpagna  follows  closely  the  earlier  composition,  though 
he  increases  the  distance  between  the  figures  of  Christ 
and  the  Virgin,  which  are  in  the  heavens,  and  the  saints 
who  kneel  in  adoration  on  the  earth  below.  Due  to 
this  and  to  the  mellowing  of  the  Florentine's  hard  and 
realistic  types,  the  later  work  proves  more  pleasing.  The 
church  of  S.  Fortunato,  with  a  good  gothic  interior, 
contains  a  Madonna  of  great  beauty,  recently  discovered 
by  F.  Mason  Perkins,  to  which  neither  guide-books 


Rieti,  Terni,  Todi,  Orvieto,  Viterbo  393 

nor  art-books  lead.  Seated  with  the  Child  on  her  lap 
and  adored  by  angels,  she  comes  so  close  to  the  con- 


THE  PIAZZA  TODI. 


ception  which  Masolino  gives  us  as  to  be  possibly  by 
his  hand. 

Todi  is  known  to  architects  for  its  sixteenth-century 


394     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

church  of  Santa  Maria  della  Consolazione,  a  domed 
building  that  is  really  very  fine,  though  built  in  an  un- 
sympathetic style.  The  church  lies  to  the  south  of  the 
town,  on  the  road  that  leads  down  to  the  Tiber.  Cross- 
ing the  latter,  we  ran  to  Orvieto  through  very  hilly 
country,  mounting  three  several  ridges  at  a  height  of 
two  thousand  feet.  The  touring-club  guide  proved 
at  fault  for  the  first  time  of  the  trip,  being  accurate 
for  neither  grades  nor  distances,  as  we  could  see  by 
comparison  with  the  kilometre  posts.  A  bad  tire  gave 
us  some  trouble  and  it  was  after  six  o'clock  when  we 
saw  the  lights  of  Orvieto  glimmering  far  below. 

Orvieto  lies  on  a  rock-girt  table-land,  whose  sides 
rise  precipitously  from  a  hilltop  to  a  height  of  five 
hundred  feet  above  the  Paglia.  The  Etruscan  remains 
of  the  neighbourhood  and  other  evidences  make  it  prob- 
able that  she  stands  where  stood,  of  old,  Volsinii,  one 
of  the  twelve  cities  of  the  Etruscan  league.  Plundered 
and  destroyed  by  the  Romans,  her  natural  strength  of 
position  procured  her  rebuilding.  During  the  middle 
ages,  she  came  into  history  more  than  once  as  the  giver 
of  sanctuary  to  troubled  popes. 

The  cathedral  is  Orvieto 's  boast.  Magnificent  it 
certainly  is,  but  the  over-decorated,  many-coloured 
facade  gives  one  a  sense  of  weariness.  One  yearns  for 
simplicity.  The  interior,  with  its  alabaster  windows 
(attractive  only  in  their  novelty)  and  striped  walls, 
is  not  restful.  As  we  pass  up  the  nave  we  should 
notice  a  Madonna  by  Gentile  da  Fabriano,  damaged, 


395 


Rieti,  Terni,  Todi,  Orvieto,  Viterbo  397 

but  showing  forth  still  its  fineness  of  spirit.  We  pass 
on  to  the  right  transept,  where  Signorelli  has  left  a 
cycle  of  frescoes,  of  prime  importance  to  the  history  of 
painting.  In  1447,  Fra  Angelico,  coming  from  Rome, 
began  the  decoration  of  the  transept  chapel,  but  left 
after  completing  a  part  of  the  ceiling.  Fifty  years 
later,  Signorelli  took  up  the  task  and  completed  it  in  a 
manner  differing  immensely  from  that  of  the  gentle 
Beato.  Cortona's  master  throws  upon  the  wall  masses 
of  nude  figures,  suffering  figures,  progenitors  of  Michael 
Angelo's  giant  offspring.  The  impression  is  one  of 
power,  but  as  we  look  upon  these  representations  of 
the  Judgment  Day,  the  Resurrection  of  the  Dead,  and 
upon  the  struggling  multitude  of  the  damned,  or  even 
upon  the  elect  themselves,  we  feel  no  sense  of  pleasure. 
The  ceiling,  with  its  groups  of  saints,  patriarchs,  and 
martyrs,  is  less  intense.  The  arabesques,  framing  por- 
traits of  Dante  and  Virgil,  show  another  side  of  the 
master's  fertile  imagination.  The  able  treatment  of  the 
nude,  however,  is  the  matter  of  main  interest  from  the 
historic  point  of  view.  Nothing  had  been  done  to  equal 
it  since  the  old  Greek  masters  laid  away  their  chisels. 

Near  the  cathedral  rises  the  Palace  of  the  Popes, 
built  by  Boniface  VIII.,  about  1300.  It  is  now  used 
as  a  museum.  Its  Etruscan  relics  are  interesting.  Of 
the  pictures,  the  finest  is  by  Simone  Martini,  a  polyp- 
tych,  dating  from  1320.  One  should  not  leave  Orvieto 
without  seeing  the  church  of  San  Giovenale  and  its  very 
early  frescoes. 


398     Rieti,  Terni,  Todi,  Orvieto,  Viterbo 

The  Tramontana  blew  hard  as  we  left  Orvieto.  We 
stopped  a  few  minutes  at  the  north-west  end  of  the  town 
for  an  inspection  of  the  Etruscan  necropolis  of  the  fifth 
century  b.c.  The  tombs  here  differ  from  those  usu- 
ally seen,  being  built  up  of  squared  stones  instead  of 
cut  from  the  native  rock.  Thirty  kilometres,  over  the 
hills,  on  a  road  that  was  almost  as  fine  as  if  built  of 
cinders,  brought  us  to  the  high-lying  town  of  Monte- 


ETRUSCAN  TOMBS,  ORVIETO. 


fiascone.  We  ran  out  to  the  westerly  point  where, 
spread  before  us,  lay  the  lake  of  Bolsena,  with  Monte 
Amiata  in  the  distance.  It  was  at  Bolsena  that  oc- 
curred the  "Miracle  of  the  Bleeding  Host,"  recorded 
by  Raphael  in  his  Vatican  fresco  and  to  commemorate 
which  the  cathedral  of  Orvieto  was  founded.  Monte- 
fiascone  is  celebrated  for  its  wine,  very  properly,  since 
"fiascone"  means  "big  flask."    The  story  that  gives 


Alinan  photo.  Vtterbo. 
SEBASTIANO  DEL  PIOMBO  PI  ETA. 


399 


Rieti,  Terni,  Todi,  Orvieto,  Viterbo  401 


the  wine  its  name — "Est-Est" — is  well  known  but 
may  bear  repeating.  A  certain  lord,  a  great  lover  of 
wine,  used,  when  travelling,  to  send  a  competent  serv- 
ant forward  to  choose  out  stopping-places  where  the 
wine  was  good.  Where  his  palate  was  tickled,  the 
servant  would  place  a  cabalistic  "Est"  ("It  is  good") 
on  the  chosen  door-post.  Monteflascone  pleased  over- 
much and  the  enthusiastic  rascal  emphasised  his  de- 
light with  an  "  Est-Est-Est."  The  result  was  dire, 
for  the  master,  when  he  came,  so  approved  his  servant's 
taste  as  to  drink  and  drink  until  he  sat  there,  dead. 
He  lies  buried  in  a  neighbouring  church,  beneath  an 
appropriate  epitaph.  We,  too,  tried  some  of  the  wine, 
and  found  it  fairly  good.  Fifteen  kilometres  more, 
down  the  hill  and  across  the  plain,  brought  us  to  Viterbo, 
where  Signor  Giordano,  genial  proprietor  of  the  Grand 
Hotel,  made  us  welcome. 

Viterbo  was  a  favourite  residence  of  the  popes. 
Clement  IV.  and  Hadrian  V.  lie  buried  here,  their 
canopied  tombs  rich  with  the  gilded  cubes  of  the  Cos- 
mati.  Viterbo,  in  Sebastiano  del  Piombo's  Pieta, 
possesses  one  of  the  world's  great  pictures.  It  is  in 
the  Palazzo  Municipale.  Sebastiano  here  gives  us  all 
the  breadth  and  power  that  he  drew  from  his  training 
under  Michael  Angelo.  Two  figures  form  the  picture. 
Christ  lies  before  us,  while  the  Virgin,  her  hands  clasped 
in  mute  supplication,  sits  beside  him,  in  a  darkness  that 
is  faintly  lighted  by  the  moon. 

Lorenzo  of  Viterbo  is  her  one  excellent  painter.  His 


4-02      Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

works,  which  are  rare,  proclaim  him  a  follower  of 
Benozzo  Gozzoli.  We  go  beyond  the  gate  and  walk 
along  the  old  Longobard  wall,  with  its  towers,  until 
we  come  to  the  church  of  Santa  Maria  della  Verita. 


THE  WALLS  VITERBO. 


The  adjacent  building  is  used  as  a  government  school 
and  many  were  the  laughing  boys  who  poured  out  as  we 
sought  to  enter.  One  of  the  teachers  took  great  pleas- 
ure in  admitting  us  to  the  fine  cloister  and  church, 


Ferento,  Villa  Lante  403 

where  Lorenzo  has  filled  a  chapel  with  scenes  from  the 
life  of  the  Virgin.  Of  these,  the  simple  and  majestic 
Marriage  of  Joseph  and  Mary,  containing  portraits 


FERENTO. 


that  are  most  highly  typical  of  their  time,  takes  first 
rank. 

The  cathedral  contains  an  interesting  picture,  whose 
authorship  is  characteristically  discussed  by  Mr.  Beren- 
son  in  his  Study  and  Criticism  of  Italian  Art  (second 


404     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

series).  Long  attributed  to  Mantegna,  this  group  of 
Christ  and  four  saints  is  now  brought  into  connection 
with  the  author  of  many  of  the  miniatures  which  so 
delight  one  as  they  decorate  the  pages  of  the  old  cho- 
ral books  of  Siena's  cathedral,  namely,  Girolamo  of 
Cremona. 

San  Sisto,  with  its  twisted  column,  reminiscent  of 

Roslyn,  and  S.  Giovanni 
in  Zoccoli,  with  an  inter- 
esting polyptych  (1441) 
by  a  certain  Francesco 
I  di  Antonio  of  Viterbo, 
should  be  visited,  if  time 
permits. 

Ferento,  an  old  Etrus- 
can site,  six  miles  north 
of  Viterbo,  afforded  an  in- 
teresting excursion.  The 
remains  of  the  old  thea- 
tre, Roman  rather  than 
Etruscan,  are  extensive. 
At  some  points,  one  won- 
ders how  the  stones  have 

FERENTO. 

held  together  through 
the  centuries.  Arches,  which  seem  to  be  on  the  point 
of  dissolution,  are  probably  as  firm  as  adamant. 

Returning  to  the  outskirts  of  Viterbo,  we  swing  to 
the  east  and  run  by  the  Via  delta  Querela,  "  Oak  Street," 
to  the  dirty  little  town  of  Bagnaia,  with  its  famous 


Ferento,  Villa  Lante  405 

Villa  Lante,  whose  gardens,  fountains,  and  splendid 
trees  prove  most  attractive.  One  great  stone-pine, 
standing  apart,  is  monarch  of  the  rest.  How  foolish 
seem  our  childhood  lessons,  that  "  green  does  n't  go  with 


A  STONE  PINE  VILLA  LANTE. 

blue,"  as  we  look  at  the  massy  foliage  outlined  against 
the  sky,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  colour-schemes  that 
Nature  has  given  us! 

Viterbo  lies  within  easy  distance  of  the  old  Etruscan 


406     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

necropoli  of  Castel  d'Asso  and  Norchia,  the  latter  being 
of  particular  interest  for  its  tombs  with  rock-cut  pedi- 
ments. The  nature  of  the  land,  with  many  narrow 
valleys  banked  by  perpendicular  faces  of  rock,  afforded 
the  Etruscans  a  method  of  burial  comparable  to  that  of 
Egypt.  The  upper  face  of  the  cliff  has  been  orna- 
mented after  a  fashion,  usually  by  the  cutting  of 
horizontal  mouldings.  Far  below,  to-day  almost  inac- 
cessible, we  find  the  tomb  entrance,  a  simple  rectangular 
cut  in  the  solid  rock,  leading  inward  for  twenty  feet  or 
more  until  the  tomb-chamber  is  reached.  Here  are 
found  couches,  sculptured  in  the  rock,  on  which  the 
dead  were  placed.  Often  there  are  sarcophagi  as  well, 
dating  from  a  later  period.  Norchia  gives  the  most 
elaborate  exteriors,  while  Corneto  and  Cerveteri, 
which  are  farther  west  and  look  to  the  Mediterranean, 
give  us  sculptured  and  painted  interiors  of  great  inter- 
est. These  latter  are  easy  of  access  while  those  at 
Norchia  and  Castel  d'Asso  are  very  difficult,  as  one 
has  to  crawl  in,  stretched  flat  out,  the  earth-choked 
passage  affording  at  times  a  space  that  is  a  scant  eight- 
een inches  square.  Some  years  before,  we  had  made 
a  bicycle  tour  of  the  district,  going  from  Rome  by 
way  of  Civitavecchia,  Toscanella,  and  Viterbo.  One 
place  which  we  had  before  omitted,  Bieda,  we  deter- 
mined now  to  visit.  To  do  this,  we  took  the  lower 
or  westerly  road  (the  easterly  leads  high  up  through 
the  Ciminian  Forest,  replete  with  Roman  memories) 
through   Vetralla,  beyond  which  we  turned  to  the 


Ferento,  Villa  Lante  415 

right,  by  a  winding  road,  which,  after  five  miles,  brought 
us  to  the  inaccessible  little  town,  whose  inhabitants 
wondered  at  the  strange  machine,  the  like  of  which 
scarce  one  had  ever  before  seen.  Bieda,  aside  from 
the  Roman  bridge,  which,  with  its  slender  arch,  still 
spans  the  little  stream  below  the  town,  proved  a  disap- 
pointment, as  there  are  no  tombs  to  compare  with 
those  of  Norchia.  After  a  vain  hunt  for  something 
artistic  in  the  churches,  we  ran  back  to  the  main  road 
and  headed  south  once  more,  intending  to  reach  Rome 
by  Bracciano,  with  its  lake  and  castle.  Something  was 
wrong,  however,  as  we  missed  the  road  and  found  our- 
selves running  down  a  steep  hill  into  Ronciglione, 
known  as  the  dirtiest  town  in  Italy.  In  spite  of  its  re- 
putation, our  stomachs  demanded  that  we  seek  some- 
thing to  eat  there.  The  results  of  inquiries  for  food 
were  not  particularly  satisfactory.  We  managed  to  get 
some  rough  bread  and  some  rougher  cheese.  Eggs, 
we  were  told,  were  not  to  be  had,  a  statement  that 
caused  Mazzini  to  gaze  querulously  at  the  old  hen  who 
paraded  around  the  floor  of  the  restaurant,  picking  up 
crumbs  from  under  the  tables.  From  Ronciglione  to 
Monterosi  and  beyond,  we  had  a  fine  view  of  Soracte, 
reminder  of  Horace  and  the  poetic  license  he  used  in 
describing  her  as  " shining  white  with  snow,"  a  great 
rarity  in  these  days.  We  had  been  up  Soracte  years 
before  and  well  remembered  the  classic  glamour  that 
surrounded  the  shepherd  boys,  piping  to  their  flocks 
on  the  higher  pastures.    Once,  when  we  had  left  the 


4i 6     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

path  to  seek  a  direct  but  arduous  way  to  the  summit,  a 
curly-haired  youngster,  brown  as  a  berry,  tried  to  dis- 
suade us,  not  understanding  that  we  were  in  training 
for  the  Gran  Sasso  and  wanted  to  rough  it. 

As  we  passed  beyond  the  site  of  ancient  Veii  (which, 
till  Camillus  destroyed  her,  rivalled  Rome)  and  the  so- 
called  "Tomb  of  Nero,"  the  Eternal  City  opened  on  our 
sight.  Monte  Mario,  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's,  and 
Monte  Cavo  filled  the  eye  to  west  and  south,  while 
eastward  the  well-remembered  mass  of  Monte  Gennaro 
rose  beyond  Tivoli.  We  crossed  the  Tiber  by  the  Ponte 
Molle,  that  Milvian  Bridge  where  Constantine  over- 
came Maxentius.  Instead  of  continuing  on  by  the 
Porta  del  Popolo,  we  bore  to  the  left,  through  the 
parkway  named  for  the  queen-mother,  and  entered 
the  city  by  the  Porta  Pia,  thus  avoiding  crowded 
streets  and  reaching  our  hotel  with  speed  and  safety. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


ROME,  MONTE  CAVO,  NORBA,  SUBIACO. 

ROME  held  us  for  many  days,  days  of  luxurious 
comfort,  earned  during  our  many  strenuous 
weeks  from  Turin.  At  first  we  took  several 
trips  that  were  of  interest;  but  the  latter  part  of  our 
stay  was  a  glorious  loafing  amid  Rome's  many  wonders. 
Were  Rome's  treasures  all  that  remained  of  the  world's 
art,  there  still  would  be  left  sufficient  material  for  a 
broad  history  of  the  works  of  men's  hands.  Within 
her  walls,  Servian,  Honorian,  and  Leonine,  Rome  has 
collected  the  sculptured  treasures  of  ancient  Greece, 
the  grand  constructions  of  her  Roman  builders,  ex- 
pressed in  mighty  monuments  of  brick  and  stone, — tow- 
ering walls,  massive  gates,  triumphal  arch,  and  pagan 
temple;  early  Christianity  pays  her  tribute  with  simple 
basilica,  sober  golden  mosaic,  or  sarcophagi,  with 
scripture-stories  quaintly  told.  Time  passes  and  Rome's 
glory  fades,  only  to  shine  again  in  the  golden  days 
of  the  Renaissance  when  all  Italy  gave  of  her  art  to 
adorn  the  capitol  of  the  Vicar  of  Christ.  Rome  rose 
once  more  in  splendour,  art-mistress  of  the  world,  and 
holds  her  own  till  now,  when  students  from  other  lands 

come  to  her  to  be  taught,  as  nowhere  else,  the  story  of 

417 


4i 8     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

the  ages.  So  much  she  gives  to  us  of  beauty  that  our 
memories,  set  down,  would  form  a  catalogue.  For 
the  pleasure  of  the  memory  as  I  write,  let  me  call  to 
mind  the  noble  Pantheon,  with  its  dome  so  spacious  and 
resting  so  lightly  that  all  sense  of  ponderance  is  for- 
gotten; the  mighty  mass  of  brick  basilica  whose  ruins 
bear  the  name  of  Constantine;  St.  Peter's  too,  a  work 
of  art,  if  we  but  get  a  view  that  gives  us  the  original 
purity  of  Michael  Angelo's  design.  Let  San  Lorenzo 
"without  the  walls  "  stand  to  us  as  the  type  of  early 
Christian  church,  though  S.  Clemente  and  S.  Prassede 
serve  almost  as  well.  Of  sculpture,  a  worthy  repre- 
sentative is  the  Birth  of  Venus,  so-called,  which  is  to  be 
found  in  the  Terme  Museum.  Michael  Angelo's  Moses 
stands  alone  among  later  works.  Visiting  it,  at  the 
church  of  S.  Pietro  in  Vincoli,  one  passes  the  tomb 
of  old  Nicholas  of  Cusa,  whose  name  was  a  by- word 
in  college  days,  when  philosophy  gave  food  for  thought. 
As  tribute  to  those  days  I  set  down  his  epitaph,  stilted 
though  the  Latin  be:  "Nicolaus  de  Cusa,  vixit  annis 
lxiii.  Dilexit  Deum,  timuit  et  veneratus  est  ac  illi 
soli  servivit.  Obiit  1464,  11  Aug."  Among  the  pic- 
tures, the  greater  works  of  the  Stanze  and  the  Sistine 
Chapel  cannot  make  us  forget  the  entrancing  Madonna 
of  the  Colonna  Gallery,  to  which  custom  has  put  the 
name  of  Gentile  da  Fabriano;  Antoniazzo's  Annuncia- 
tion in  the  Minerva,  where  Fra  Angelico  lies  buried; 
and  the  saintly  figure,  by  Tura,  whose  recent  purchase 
has  enriched  the  Borghese  Gallery  and  robbed  the 


423 


Rome,  Monte  Cavo,  Norba,  Subiaco  427 

adjacent  Raphael  of  all  impressiveness.  Last  and 
greatest  must  be  added  the  splendid  portrait  of  Pope  In- 
nocent X.  in  the  Doria  Gallery,  the  supreme  expression 
of  the  art  of  Spain's  greatest  master,  Velasquez. 

We  were  in  Rome  for  Christmas.  The  dearest  mem- 
ory of  the  festival  centres  around  the  tots  who  spoke 
their  little  pieces  in  the  Aracoeli,  where  a  famous 
Presepio  was  exposed  to  view.  One  after  another,  wee 
mites  of  humanity  were  pushed  forward  to  tell,  in  their 
own  language,  the  story  of  the  birth  of  Jesus.  True 
Italians  all,  they  impressed  us  with  the  spontaneity 
of  their  gestures.  American  children  would  kill  with 
their  awkwardness  what  here  was  a  delight.  There  was 
some  bashfulness,  it  is  true,  more  to  be  seen  in  the  boys 
than  in  the  girls,  but  it  wTas  just  sufficient  to  add  to 
the  cuteness  of  the  ceremony. 

Rome  is  not  an  ideal  centre  for  touring.  Several 
places  of  interest  are  within  reach  but  the  roads  near 
Rome  are  miserable,  due  to  excessive  use.  The  more 
important  are  paved  with  cobble-stones  for  several 
miles  from  the  gates — excellent  for  the  carter  but  de- 
tracting from  automobile  enjoyment. 

Our  first  trip  took  us  to  Monte  Cavo,  highest  of  those 
Alban  Hills,  under  whose  shadow,  so  tradition  says, 
Rome's  founders  had  their  birth.  We  went  southward 
across  the  broad  campagna,  where  broken  lines  of 
stilted  arches  march  majestic,  far  more  picturesque 
in  their  ruin  than  when  they  brought  to  Rome,  from 
the  hills,  refreshing  water  for  the  baths  and  fountains. 


428     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Small  towns  and  clustering  villas  lie  scattered  on  the 
rising  ground  that  takes  us  upward.  Soon  we  are  at 
Frascati,  whose  name  the  wine-shops  of  Rome  tend 
to  immortalise.    A  winding,  wooded  road  leads  thence 


DWELLERS  ON  MONTE  CAVO. 

to  Rocca  di  Papa,  high  up  on  the  hillside.  The  car  can 
take  us  no  farther.  Dismounting,  we  climb  upward, 
soon  leaving  the  town's  filth  and  reaching  a  point  where 
lies  a  broad  upland  plain,  once  a  crater,  called  after 


Rome,  Monte  Cavo,  Norba,  Subiaco  429 

Hannibal,  who,  the  Italians  maintain,  had  his  camp 
here.  Going  farther,  we  reach  at  length  the  ancient 
road  that  leads  to  the  summit.  Blocks  of  basalt,  like 
those  of  Rome's  Via  Sacra,  remain  in  perfect  preserva- 


ANCIENT  ROMAN  ROAD  MONTE  CAVO. 


tion.  We  follow  in  the  steps  of  those  old  conquerors 
to  whom  the  Senate  had  refused  the  glory  of  a  Roman 
triumph.  Here  they  came,  to  the  cradle  of  their  race, 
to  lay  their  trophies  on  the  altar  of  the  Latian  Jupiter, 


430     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

whose  temple  crowned  the  summit  of  this,  the  Alban 
Mount.  To-day,  a  deserted  monastery  fills  the  spot 
so  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  the  classicists.  June  makes  a 
paradise  of  the  place  and  even  December  finds  it  beau- 
tiful. The  old  beeches,  though  leafless,  attracted  us 
more,  with  the  strength  of  their  bared  branches,  than 
did  the  view  itself,  which  gave  the  eye  a  grand  expanse 
of  sea  and  lake,  of  plain  and  mountain,  for  a  feast. 


BEECHES  MONTE  CAVO. 


We  lingered  till  the  sun  set  in  the  sea,  a  long,  fiery 
lane  leading  horizonward  across  the  water  to  his  rest- 
ing-place. 

Another  day  we  went  to  Terracina  and  back.  The 
Appian  Way,  lined  with  its  tombs,  is  to  be  avoided  by 
autoists,  so  we  took  the  new  and  less  direct  road  of  the 
same  name,  until  we  had  gone  some  fifteen  miles,  to 
where  the  new  road  runs  into  the  old ; — then  on,  up  the 


Rome,  Monte  Cavo,  Norba,  Subiaco      43 1 

hill,  to  where  we  turned  toward  Castel  Gandolfo,  in  order 
to  get  a  view  of  the  beautiful  Lake  of  Albano,  on  whose 
more  distant  boundary  once  lay  Alba  Longa,  mother  of 
Rome.  Turning  again,  we  ran  through  Albano  and 
Ariccia  to  Genzano.  Near-by  lies  in  shaded  quiet  the 
crater-filling  Lake  of  Nemi,  uniquely  beautiful,  upon 
whose  bosom  floated,  in  ancient  days,  the  pleasure 
galleys  of  Tiberius.    From  the  grounds  of  the  Cesarini 


PELASGIC  GATEWAY— NORBA. 


Palace,  opened  on  presentation  of  one's  card,  the  lake, 
viewed  through  varied  vistas  of  trees,  gleams  in  soft 
attraction.  From  the  next  town,  Velletri,  of  Volscian 
origin,  the  road  led  downward  into  the  sea-coast  plain 
of  the  Maremma.  We  passed  under  Cori,  lying  on  the 
hills  to  the  east,  noted  for  its  remains  of  the  Pelasgic 
period,  which  consist  of  old  walls  built  of  polygonal 
blocks  of  stone.    Norba,   farther  on,   with  similar 


432     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

remains  of  more  importance,  had  been  visited  in  our 
student  days  and  we  determined  to  go  there  again, 
in  spite  of  its  high  elevation  and  the  twisting,  turning 
road  that  leads  to  it.  The  old  site  is  no  longer  inhabited, 
the  neighbouring  Norma  taking  its  place.  Norba  lies 
thirteen  hundred  feet  above  the  plain  and  from  it  one 
looks  far  off  across  the  Pontine  Marshes,  to  where  the 


PELASGIC  WALL  NORBA. 


promontory  of  Monte  Circeo — Mount  of  Circe  of  the 
Odyssey  and  scene  of  her  enchantments — rears  itself. 

Norba's  massive  walls,  forming  a  circuit  of  nearly 
two  miles,  are  a  splendid  example  of  "polygonal"  work. 
Within  the  old  city  one  finds  the  foundations  of  many 
buildings  and  a  large  cistern.  The  remains  date  from 
a  period  anterior  to  492  b.  c,  at  which  time  Norba 
became  a  Roman  colony.  Leaving  the  plain  and  pass- 
ing through  the  mediaeval  town  of  Ninfa,  with  its  old 


435 


Rome,  Monte  Cavo,  Norba,  Subiaco      43  7 

tower,  its  mill,  and  its  malarial  surroundings,  we  found 
ourselves  breasting  the  hill  in  fine  fashion.  With  a 
backing-up  or  two  at  the  shortest  turns  we  reached  the 
top  and  spent  an  hour  rambling  over  the  place.  In 
days  gone  by  we  had  spent  a  week  at  Norma.  High 
up  behind  the  town  rises  Semprevisa,  with  an  altitude 
of  five  thousand  feet,  the  highest  of  the  coast  mountains 
between  Rome  and  Naples.  Once  we  made  the  ascent 
and  were  rewarded  by  a  splendid  view.  To  the  west 
we  looked  far  out  over  the  Mediterranean.  Below  us, 
to  the  east,  lay  the  little  hill-town  of  Carpineto  Romano, 
birthplace  of  Leo  XIII.  As  we  looked  down  upon  it, 
far  below,  borne  up  to  us  through  the  still  air  came  the 
sound  of  church-bells.  We  listened  till  it  ceased,  and 
looking  farther,  were  able  to  pick  out  Segni,  Anagni, 
Ferentino,  and  Frosinone,  all  of  which  we  had  previously 
visited.  Of  Alatri,  whose  polygonally  formed  citadel 
outrivals  anything  of  the  kind,  we  were  not  sure.  The 
visitor  to  Italy  seldom  realises  that  <such  things  as 
Pelasgic  remains  exist,  so  I  may  be  pardoned  if  I  go  a  bit 
out  of  my  way  to  illustrate  the  works  of  the  old  race  that 
built,  so  ponderously  and  well,  structures  that  look 
fitted  to  hold  their  places  till  the  Judgment-day. 

Reaching  the  main  road  again,  below  Ninfa,  we  found 
it  straight  and  level,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  We 
sped  along  so  fast  that  I  remarked  to  Mazzini  on  the 
merits  of  the  car.  Hardly  had  his  reply,  that  she  was 
a  "gran  buon  macchina,"  been  uttered,  when  the 
power  gave  out.    Jumping  out,  we  found  a  trail  of 


438     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

gasoline  reaching  backward  out  of  sight.  The  outlet 
plug  of  the  gasoline  tank  had  fallen  off  and  there  we 
were,  fifteen  miles  from  nowhere,  and  no  telling  how 
much  gasoline  was  left  to  us.       Of  course  we  immedi- 


I 

I 


OUR  RESCUER 


ately  stopped  the  flow  with  hand  and  handkerchief. 
Mazzini  ran  back  to  see  if  the  plug  could  be  found. 
In  the  meantime  our  rescuer  appeared  in  the  shape  of  a 
little  girl,  carrying  a  water-jar.    A  promise  of  reward 


Rome,  Monte  Cavo,  Norba,  Subiaco  439 


gave  us  temporary  use  of  her  jar,  into  which  we  let  the 
gasoline  run.  Luckily,  what  was  left  almost  filled  it 
and  we  had  hopes  of  reaching  Terracina.  Mazzini 
failed  to  find  the  plug  but  the  Professor  and  I  had  better 
luck,  though  not  until  we  had  given  up  hope.  We  had 
failed  to  allow  for  the  great  speed  at  which  we  were 
going  when  the  mishap  occurred.  As  we  walked  back 
toward  the  car,  at  a  point  nearly  two  hundred  feet  from 
the  beginning  of  the  gasoline  trail,  my  foot  struck 
•something  solid  under  the  leaves  at  the  side  of  the  road. 
An  instinct,  gained  while  searching  for  lost  golf  balls, 
told  me  that  it  was  no  stone  that  I  had  struck, — and  it 
wasn't.  We  started  on  again,  hopeful  that  our  fuel 
supply  would  be  so  favoured  by  the  level  road  as  to 
bring  us  to  our  destination.  By  good  luck,  it  held  out 
and  we  arrived  safely. 

Terracina,  with  its  high  promontory,  upon  which 
are  the  ruins  of  a  temple  of  Venus,  lies  on  the  coast. 
Outside  of  a  few  remains  of  the  Roman  period,  there 
is  little  of  interest.  Lunch  and  a  new  supply  of  gaso- 
line were  what  we  sought  and  we  were  successful. 
Lunch  over,  a  walk  along  the  shore  gave  us  an  interest- 
ing sight  of  the  manner  in  which  the  town's  washing 
is  done.  A  clear,  fresh  stream,  running  into  the  sea, 
furnishes  the  water,  and  the  rocks  of  the  sea  wall  make 
an  admirable  drying-ground.  After  a  brief  visit  to  the 
cathedral,  it  was  all  aboard  once  more,  an  uneventful 
run  bringing  us  back  to  Rome  in  time  for  a  rest  before 
dinner. 


44°     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


More  than  once  in  previous  years  I  found  myself  on 
the  point  of  starting  for  Subiaco,  but  something  al- 
ways turned  up  at  the  last  moment  to  prevent.  Now, 
however,  a  splendid  day  and  an  early  start  gave  hope 
that  the  bad  luck  would  vanish.  From  the  Porta 
San  Lorenzo  we  ran  out  into  the  campagna,  by  the 
rough  road  that  leads  to  Tivoli.  We  cross  the  Anio, 
pass  the  Aqua  Albulce,  hot  springs,  redolent  with  sulphur , 


A  FOUNTAIN  TIVOLI. 

used  medicinally  by  the  old  Romans,  and,  farther  on, 
come  near  to  the  celebrated  ruins  of  Hadrian's  villa, 
so  often  described  as  to  permit  mention  only  of  the 
splendid  cypresses.  We  were  soon  running  up  the 
winding  road  that  leads  into  Tivoli.  Here  were  olive 
trees  that  looked  as  ancient  as  the  rocks  among  which 
they  grew.  Tivoli,  with  the  beautiful  gardens  of  the 
Villa  d'  Este,  the  Sibylline  temple,  and  the  cascades 


Rome,  Monte  Cavo,  Norba,  Subiaco  441 


of  the  Anio,  must  be  left  for  another  day.  Straight 
through  the  town  we  went  and  on  again,  following  the 
winding  Anio,  along  whose  valley  runs  the  restored 
Marcian  aqueduct,  which,  modern  fashion,  is  seldom 
visible.  Ruins  of  the  old  aqueduct,  dating  from  146 
B.C.,  we  had  seen  on  the  campagna.  At  the  branch 
road  leading  to  Arsoli,  we  turned  to  the  south,  passed 
the  source  of  the  Acqua  Marcia,  and  crossed  the  newly 
built  railway.  To  the  right  rose  the  high  ridge  on 
which  lies  the  picturesque  town  of  Canterano.  Subiaco, 
with  its  prominent  castle,  now  came  into  view.  Before 
reaching  it  we  turned  to  the  right,  crossed  a  stone  bridge 
that  seemed  scarce  calculated  to  bear  the  weight  of  the 
Fiat,  and  ran  up  the  hill  to  the  old  church  of  San  Fran- 
cesco. We  were  seeking  a  Madonna  by  Antoniazzo. 
Over  the  high  altar  was  a  late  and  miserable  Madonna, 
covered  with  glass.  At  the  sides  were  panels  with 
figures  of  Sts.  Francis  and  Anthony  which  seemed 
close  in  style  to  our  artist,  but  the  Madonna  we  sought 
was  nowhere  visible.  After  much  investigation,  we 
discovered  a  cord  at  the  back  of  the  altar,  which,  when 
pulled,  raised  the  miserable  picture  and  showed  beneath 
the  attractive  features  that  Antoniazzo  gives  to  his 
Virgins.  It  may  be  noted  that  America  possesses  two 
works  by  this  artist,  one  (signed)  in  Mr.  Widener's 
collection,  in  Philadelphia,  and  the  other  recently  in 
the  collection  of  Mr.  Eugene  Fischof. 

Subiaco  itself  contains  nothing  of  interest.  It  was 
once  the  site  of  a  favourite  villa  of  Nero.  To-day, 


442     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Nero  is  forgotten,  while  the  saintly  Benedict,  who 
came  here  in  the  sixth  century,  grows  in  fame  as  time 
passes.  A  mile  beyond  the  town,  we  leave  the  car 
and  ascend  on  foot,  past  the  three  monasteries  of  Santa 
Scolastica,  sister  of  Benedict,  which  are  modernised 
and  hold  little  for  the  visitor.  Benedict,  seeking  isola- 
tion, retired  to  a  cave,  high  up  in  the  mountain's  rocky 
face.  At  a  very  early  period  a  church  was  built  over 
the  cave,  close  against  the  mountain.  To  this  was 
added,  in  later  years,  a  monastery.  We  come  to  an 
outer  gate,  beyond  which  a  pathway,  shaded  by  holm- 
oaks,  beckons  onward.  The  beauty  of  the  place  ap- 
peals to  one.  Did  Benedict  feel  the  attraction  as  he 
looked  from  his  mountain-retreat  down  the  valley  that 
leads  on  to  Rome,  or  did  his  ascetic  mind  refuse  to  dwell 
on  any  delights  but  those  he  deemed  spiritual?  The 
walls  of  the  old  church,  or  rather  churches,  for  there 
are  two,  one  above  the  other,  are  covered  with  ancient 
frescoes,  of  historic  importance.  Here  we  see  a  por- 
trait of  St.  Francis,  painted  probably  when  he  visited 
Subiaco,  in  1 216.  Others  show  us  the  Triumph  of  Death 
and  scenes  from  the  lives  of  Christ  and  the  Virgin, 
many  of  them  antedating  Giotto.  The  old  confessional 
boxes  interested  us,  each  provided  with  a  wand,  with 
which  the  priest  touched  the  penitent  in  granting  abso- 
lution, an  implement  to  which  our  attention  was  here 
called  for  the  first  time. 

Leaving  our  Benedictine  guide,  we  make  our  way 
down  to  the  car.    Crossing  the  Anio  by  a  lofty  bridge, 


Rome,  Monte  Cavo,  Norba,  Subiaco  447 

we  zigzag  up  the  hill,  with  its  high  round-tower,  pass 
the  ridge  and  then  in  long  windings  hurry  onward, 
the  mountain  road  affording  fine  views.  We  wish  it  were 
anything  but  December,  for  the  upland  wind  has  a 
sting  to  it  that  makes  us  welcome  picturesque  Olevano. 
Before  we  reach  the  town,  we  pass  the  great  oak-grove, 
known  as  the  Serpentara,  which,  recently  threatened 
with  destruction,  was  saved  through  purchase  by  the 
German  government,  a  fact  that  has  given  a  Teutonic 
complexion  to  the  place.  Many  are  the  framed  testi- 
monials of  various  sorts  which  the  Albergo  contains, 
telling  of  illustrious  German  visitors.  The  Emperor 
himself  has  honoured  the  place.  Photographs  of  the 
occasion  give  one  the  same  flavour  as  does  the 
North  Cape,  sacred  to  the  memory  of  William  the 
Impetuous. 

Olevano  lies  on  a  ridge,  from  whose  top  one  gets  a 
fine  view.  The  view  could  not  keep  us,  however,  for 
we  were  ravenous  and  were  soon  impatiently  seated  in 
the  upper  salon  of  the  Albergo  Roma.  Midwinter 
visitors  are  not  numerous  and  we  had  to  wait  some  time 
before  our  wants  were  attended  to. 

A  group  of  ragazzi  awaited  our  departure  with 
interest.  I  managed  to  snap  them  as  we  started. 
Joining  the  old  Praeneste  road  at  Ponte  d'  Orsino,  we 
turned  west  and  passed  the  mouth  of  the  valley  that 
leads  up  to  Genazzano.  Beyond  Cave,  with  its  back- 
ward look  at  snow- topped  mountains,  we  had  an  alter- 
cation with  a  diligence  driver  who  blocked  our  way, 


448     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

keeping  to  the  middle  of  the  road  and  refusing  to  turn 
out  and  let  us  by.  I  ran  beside  him  for  a  bit,  while  he 
argued  that  the  road  was  too  narrow  to  permit  our 
passing.  At  the  most  cogent  point  of  his  argument, 
Mazzini  managed  to  slip  by  and  we  sped  away  in 
triumph,  while  the  passengers  who  filled  the  diligence 
poked  fun  at  their  Jehu.  Palestrina,  Praeneste  of  old, 
flashed  into  sight  with  windows  ablaze  in  the  light  of  the 
sinking  sun.    A  cross-road  took  us  to  the  line  of  the 


JUST  BOYS  OLEVANO. 


old  Via  Labicana,  whence  twenty  miles  of  good  going 
brought  us  home  by  the  Porta  Maggiore,  Rome's  most 
interesting  gate.  Built  by  Claudius  in  52  a.d.,  as 
part  of  an  aqueduct,  it  carried  the  "Aqua  Claudia" 
and  the  "  Anio  Novus,"  one  above  the  other,  as  we  can 
see  to-day.  It  was  later  incorporated  in  the  Aurelian 
wall  and  became  one  of  the  gates  of  the  city.  Just 


Rome,  Monte  Cavo,  Norba,  Subiaco  449 


outside  it,  one  sees  the  "baker's  tomb,"  a  remarkable 
monument,  built  to  symbolise  the  baker's  trade. 
The  round-mouthed  openings,  supposed  to  represent 
measures  for  grain,  are  sepulchrally  unique. 


29 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


NAPLES,  SORRENTO,  RAVELLO,  P^ESTUM,  POMPEII. 

WE  left  Rome,  finally,  about  the  middle  of  Janu- 
ary. For  the  last  time  we  went  through  the 
Porta  Maggiore.  The  familiar  miles  of  the  Via 
Labicana  passed  rapidly  behind.  It  had  been  snowing 
in  the  mountains  and  all  the  heights  behind  Palestrina 
were  gleaming  white.  We  passed  under  Valmontone, 
with  its  picturesque  palace  belonging  to  the  Dorias,  and 
high-lying  Segni,  where  once  we  had  spent  the  night, 
and  Anagni,  where  venerable  Pope  Boniface  was 
taken  prisoner  by  the  French,  whose  leader  committed 
sacrilege  in  refusing  to  grant  the  right  of  sanctuary 
to  the  cathedral's  high  altar,  at  which  the  Pope  had 
sought  refuge.  Ferentino  came  next  (its  cathedral 
contains  interesting  Cosmato  work),  finely  situated, 
with  views  outspread  in  all  directions.  To  the  left, 
over  the  hills,  lies  Alatri,  of  Pelasgic  origin.  The  men 
and  women  of  the  district  are  fine-looking,  the  latter 
wearing  huge  gold  earrings,  head-dresses  of  white  linen, 
zouave  jackets  in  coloured  silk,  kerchiefs  about  their 
necks,  and  striped  scarves  tied  round  their  waists;  odd 
costumes,  but  very  picturesque.  Many  of  the  men 
had  their  legs  bound  with  tape.    Some  wore  goatskin 

450 


Naples,  Sorrento,  Ravello,  Paestum,  Pompeii  451 

trousers,  with  the  hair  turned  outward.  Shoes  of  wood 
were  the  rule,  consisting  only  of  soles  with  small  leather 
toe-caps  holding  them  precariously  in  place.  Beyond 
Frosinone,  fifty  miles  from  Rome,  the  scenery  became 
even  finer, — high  hills,  sharp  in  outline  and  rock-grey, 
towns  lying  upon  them  in  all  impossible  places, — until 
we  came  to  Cassino  and  lunch. 

The  famous  Monastery  of  Monte  Cassino,  founded 
by  St.  Benedict,  lies  high  above  the  town.  Time 
would  not  permit  us  to  visit  it,  something  that  did 
not  cause  us  great  regret,  as  the  buildings  and  the  works 
of  art  they  contain  are  comparatively  modern  and  of 
little  worth.  For  archivists,  though,  the  old  records 
of  the  institution  are  said  to  contain  a  mine  of  interest. 
The  old  castle  of  Cassino,  with  protecting  walls  run- 
ning down  toward  the  town,  is  very  picturesque. 

The  forty  miles  to  Capua  contained  little  of  inter- 
est. Had  we  known  that  we  were  taking  our  last 
look  at  a  good  road,  we  might  have  paid  more  attention 
to  it.  We  had  but  just  passed  Capua  (whose  cathedral 
contains  a  Madonna  with  Stephen  and  Lucy,  by  Anton- 
iazzo,  with  a  colouring  similar  to  the  Minerva  picture) 
when  we  encountered  the  worst,  muddiest,  most  rutted 
and  begravelled  excuse  for  a  road  that  it  has  ever  been 
my  fortune  to  travel.  Twenty  miles  we  had  of  it,  all 
the  way  into  Naples.  Five  miles  from  the  finish  we 
caught  a  puncture,  but  the  mud  was  so  deep  that  it  was 
hardly  necessary  to  fix  it  and  we  let  it  go.  Naples  at 
last,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Rome,  brought 


45 2     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

us  relief.  I  was  glad  to  see,  a  short  time  ago,  that  this 
beastly  stretch  was  characterised,  by  the  contestants  in 
the  Italian  endurance  contest,  as  the  worst  road  on 
earth. 

A  calm  night,  with  the  moon's  rays  coming  to  us  in 
a  mirrored  glory  across  the  water,  was  a  fitting  ending 
to  our  weary  day.    We  said  good-night  to  Vesuvius, 


MACARONI  PORTICI. 


whose  lava  scars,  glowing  against  the  blackness,  made 
the  scene  a  weird  one. 

Let  him  who  can  wax  enthusiastic  over  the  beauties 
of  Naples.  I  have  never  liked  her,  and  never  shall. 
Many  things  there  interest  me,  but  I  like  them  in  spite 
of  Naples,  not  because  of  her.  The  beautiful  bay, 
with  its  promontories  and  islands,  with  Vesuvius  serv- 
ing up  natural  wonders,  strange  to  the  American  palate, 
with  Capri's  wondrous  grottoes  and  Pompeii's  frescoed 


Naples,  Sorrento,  Ravello,  Paestum,  Pompeii  453 

walls — one  would  think  indeed  that  Naples  were  a  name 
to  spell  enchantment.  But  the  people — they  have 
made  of  this  paradise  a  hell,  in  particular  a  motorist's 
hell.  If  Naples  be  distasteful  to  the  railway  tourist, 
how  much  more  so  to  the  traveller  by  automobile.  The 
roads  of  southern  Italy  are  bad  enough,  but  to  reach 
even  these,  for  the  many  excursions  to  the  southward, 
one  has  to  pass  over  the  miles  of  pavement,  filled  with 
loitering  beings,  deaf  to  all  sounds  of  warning,  of  the 
one  long  street  that  leads  to  Portici  (with  its  masses  of 
macaroni,  hung  by  the  dusty  road  to  dry),  Torre  del 
Greco,  and  Torre  Annunziata.  Going  westward  from 
Naples  to  Pozzuoli,  the  way  is  no  more  pleasant,  for  the 
road  is  covered  with  scattered  breccia,  without  which  it 
would  still  be  bad.  It  was  here  that  we  had  a  mishap 
that  might  have  been  serious.  We  were  slowly  passing  a 
tram,  when  an  old  man  (he  proved  to  be  eighty)  stepped 
off  the  wrong  side  of  the  car  and  deliberately  walked  into 
our  rear  mud-guard.  We  were  going  very  slowly,  but 
the  weight  of  the  car,  nevertheless,  threw  him  to  the 
ground,  cutting  his  head  and  stunning  him.  We  ran 
back  and  picked  him  up,  thankful  to  find  that  he  could 
speak.  In  short  order  he  was  placed  in  a  cab  and  taken 
to  a  distant  hospital,  while  we  became  acquainted  with 
the  Posilipo  police-station.  After  a  while,  the  judge 
came, — a  very  nice  man,  who  took  our  depositions 
and  those  of  several  witnesses,  who  admitted  that  the 
accident  was  due  to  no  fault  of  ours.  The  old  man's 
wife  put  in  an  appearance.    She  was  hysterical  and 


454     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

soundly  berated  the  judge,  when  he  tried  to  calm  her. 
Later,  word  came  from  the  hospital,  by  telephone, 
that  the  injury  was  nothing  serious  and  that  the  patient 
would  return  in  another  hour.  The  judge  told  us 
that  we  must  wait.  "  Why  may  we  not  run  to  Poz- 
zuoli  and  back?'1  we  asked  him.  "Impossible,  you 
can't  do  it  in  an  hour,"  he  replied.  The  upshot  was 
that  we  went,  taking  with  us  the  judge  and  his  nephew. 
A  whispered  warning  to  Mazzini  to  go  slowly,  else  the 
judge  would  surely  blame  us  for  the  accident,  and  we 
were  off.  Mazzini  really  did  for  once  restrain  himself, 
so  much  so  that  the  judge  wanted  to  know  if  we  could  n't 
go  faster ;  whereat  we  went  up  the  next  hill  and  skidded 
around  one  of  its  loops  in  such  a  fashion  that  the  judge 
cried  out.  The  old  man  arrived  at  the  police-station 
just  as  we  came  back.  After  a  long  parley  with  the  old 
fellow  we  gave  him  a  hundred  francs  as  a  present,  the 
judge  informing  him  that  he  had  no  claim  on  us  what- 
ever. I  am  afraid  that  the  pleasure  the  nephew  had 
in  the  ride  made  the  judge  over-partial  to  our  side  of 
the  case. 

The  Naples  Museum  is  full  of  fine  things.  The 
great  story  in  marble  that  goes  by  the  name  of  the 
Farnese  Bull,  the  Venus  of  Capua,  the  many  frescoes 
and  mosaics  and  bronzes,  above  all,  the  bronzes,  that 
have  come  from  the  buried  cities  of  Pompeii  and  Hercu- 
laneum,  will  bear  a  world  of  study.  There  are  pictures 
here,  too,  of  the  Renaissance,  and  some  are  important. 
Titian,  Sebastiano  del  Piombo,  Lotto,  and  Parmigianino 


/ 

Naples,  Sorrento,  Ravello,  Paestum,  Pompeii  455 

are  well  represented,  while  the  interesting  Jacopo 
di  Barbari  appears  in  a  recently  discovered  double 
portrait  of  himself  and  Fra  Luca  Pacioli,  the  celebrated 
mathematician. 

Trips  in  the  past  to  Sorrento  and  Amain  had  pro- 
duced the  idea  that  the  roads  there  were  excellent. 
Perhaps  they  are,  for  carriages,  but  they  are  so  full  of 
holes  that  an  auto  bumps  you  to  death,  unless  it  crawls 
along.  We  ran  from  Naples  to  Torre  Annunziata  and 
branched  to  the  right  to  Castellamare.  Here  the 
road  rises  and  runs  along  the  cliffs,  giving  a  splendid 
view  of  Naples  and  the  bay.  Vesuvius  was  smoking 
lustily.  From  time  to  time  the  wind  carried  the  smoke 
down  the  funicular  railway,  run  by  Cook.  By  dire 
experience  we  knew  how  agreeable  the  sulphurous 
fumes  were  to  the  unfortunates  who  were  attempting 
the  ascent.  We  passed  Vico  Equense  and  Meta  and 
soon  reached  Sorrento.  Running  beyond  the  town  we 
lunched  on  the  terrace  of  the  Pensione  Paradiso,  a 
worthily  celebrated  point  of  view.  After  lunch  we 
turned  the  corner  of  the  peninsula  and  from  near  Massa 
Lubrense  had  a  fine  view  of  Capri.  Returning  as  far 
as  Meta,  we  ran  up  over  the  hills,  rising  above  orange- 
groves,  which  looked  strange  with  the  great  squares 
of  matting  placed  over  them  as  a  protection  from  frost. 
The  views  were  splendid,  but  not  to  be  compared  with 
those  in  store  for  us.  Reaching  the  highest  point  we 
came  out  upon  the  southern  slope,  where  the  sun  had 
worked  his  wonders.    Few  places  in  the  world  exceed 


456     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

in  beauty  the  slopes  that  look  down  upon  the  Gulf  of 
Salerno.  At  the  top  of  the  ridge,  high  poles  are  set, 
which,  in  the  season,  carry  nets,  against  which  fly  the 
quail  which  come  from  distant  Africa  on  the  wings 
of  the  Sirocco;  a  story  true  enough,  no  doubt,  but  of 
the  sort  that  one  would  prefer  to  see  enacted.  We  soon 
reached  the  road  that  runs  along  the  cliffs  on  the  south- 
ern side  of  the  peninsula  and  passed  Positano  and  Pra- 


VALLEY  OF  ATRANI,  NEAR  RAVELLO. 


jano.  Near  the  latter  we  passed  men  and  boys  marching 
out  with  flags  to  greet  a  candidate  for  deputy,  who  was 
coming  from  Naples  on  a  speaking  tour.  We  soon  met 
the  electoral  party,  ten  carriages  strong,  easily  to  be 
mistaken,  in  the  distance,  for  Cook's  tourists. 

The  cliffs  above  the  road  became  steeper.  Peach 
trees  and  wild-cherries,  in  blossom,  gladdened  our  eyes. 
At  familiar  Amalfi  we  stopped  a  moment  to  indulge 


Naples,  Sorrento,  Ravello,  Paestum,  Pompeii  461 


our  fancy  for  post-cards,  and  then,  a  mile  beyond, 
turned  into  the  climbing  road  that  leads  to  Ravello. 
Until  recently  there  was  no  carriageable  road,  our  good 
friend  of  Siena  being  the  first  visitor  to  drive  to  the 
town.  Remembering  the  enthusiasm  of  her  reception, 
she  had  made  us  promise  to  spend  a  night  there,  rather 
than  at  Amalfi.  The  difficulty  of  the  ascent  was 
added  to  by  the  breccia,  but  we  managed  to  reach  the 
top  in  good  fashion.  The  road  leads  through  the 
valley  of  Atrani,  whose  lower  levels  are  filled  with 
groves  of  orange.  Higher  up,  the  thickly  terraced 
slopes  produce  an  abundance  of  grapes. 

Ravello,  from  her  height,  seems  almost  to  overhang 
the  sea  at  her  feet.  Historians  tell  us  that  she  was 
founded  by  the  Normans  and,  at  the  height  of  her 
prosperity,  rejoiced  in  a  population  of  thirty-six  thou- 
sand souls.  There  seems  no  room  at  the  top  for  such  a 
number,  but  we  must  hold  our  peace  and  trust  all  to 
Baedeker. 

Reaching  the  top  we  were  told  that  no  automobile 
had  ever  spent  the  night  there ;  that  there  was  not  even 
a  stable  in  the  town.  We  appealed  to  the  mayor  to  grant 
us  the  hospitality  of  the  cloistered  entrance  to  the 
twelfth-century  Palazzo  Rufolo.  In  the  absence  of  the 
owner,  he  was  in  charge  and  very  kindly  granted  our 
request.  That  night  the  Fiat  slept  among  shades  of  a 
past  whose  wisest  seers  never  imagined  the  coming  of 
such  creations  as  automobiles. 

Ravello  is  interesting  for  its  relics  of  the  Normans, 


462     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

for  its  cathedral,  built  close  to  the  days  of  William 
the  Conqueror,  with  its  old  mosaic  pulpit  and  episcopal 
throne ;  for  the  church  of  San  Giovanni,  with  its  pictur- 
esque belfry;  but,  above  all,  Ravello  is  interesting  for 
its  view,  which  is  unsurpassed.  One  gets  it  best,  perhaps, 
from  the  garden  of  the  Palazzo  Rufolo.  I  shall  not 
try  to  describe  it.  The  photograph,  even  without  its 
colour,  can  do  that  better  than  I.  One  should  go  there 
and  prove  that  Italy,  in  yet  another  field,  outdoes 
other  countries.  Greece  is  pre-eminent  for  views  that 
combine  land  and  sea,  but  she  holds  nothing  equivalent 
to  the  outlook  from  Ravello. 

The  Hotel  Palumbo,  once  the  episcopal  palace,  made 
us  comfortable  during  our  stay.  Its  chief  functionary 
was  the  young  maid-of-all-work,  who  welcomed  the 
Fiat,  rang  up  the  mayor,  and  superintended  the  entry 
into  the  Palazzo  Rufolo;  who  herself  insisted  on  carry- 
ing our  heaviest  pieces  of  baggage,  who  showed  us  to 
our  rooms,  and  who  next  day  acted  as  our  guide  over 
the  place,  and,  not  content  with  seeing  us  off,  occupied 
the  seat  next  Mazzini  all  the  way  down  the  hill  to 
Minora.  Volubility  itself,  she  chattered  continuously 
in  a  mixture  of  English  and  Italian.  She  was  attending 
school  at  Minora  and  her  principal  study  was  English, 
so  she  told  us.  Automobiling  was  her  hobby.  A  kind 
gentleman  had  even  taken  her  as  far  as  Naples  in  his 
car.  She  certainly  was  a  character  for  her  years,  which 
were  fifteen.  Mazzini  seemed  more  than  embarrassed 
at  the  proximity  of  the  good-looking  madcap. 


Naples,  Sorrento,  Ravello,  Paestum,  Pompeii  465 

The  road  along  the  coast  proved  unpleasantly  rough, 
almost  persuading  us  to  turn  north  on  the  Naples  road 
at  Vietri,  where  we  stopped  for  gasoline.  The  gasoline's 
proprietor  was  all  smiles,  but  they  failed  to  win  us 
to  his  price  of  two  lire  per  kilo.  Leaving  him  in  the 
lurch,  we  went  on  to  Salerno,  where  a  lira  and  a  quarter 
was  asked,  equivalent,  in  America,  to  a  dollar  a  gallon. 
We  stayed  at  Salerno  long  enough  to  see  the  cathedral, 
with  its  splendid  thirteenth-century  pulpit  and  ambone, 
probably  the  finest  examples  of  Cosmato  work  in  Italy, 
and  then,  on  the  assurance  that  the  twenty-five  miles 
to  Paestum  were  over  excellent  roads,  a  statement  that 
held  fairly  good,  we  were  off  again.  At  Battipaglia 
we  turned  to  the  right,  leaving  the  main  road  that  car- 
ries one  to  Reggio,  the  ferrying-point  for  Sicily,  that 
excellent  field  for  the  autoist  in  search  of  adventure. 
Memories  of  Taormina  and  Syracuse,  of  Girgenti  and 
Monreale,  beckoned  us  southward,  but  we  had  to  say 
them  nay. 

Paestum1  s  interest  lies  in  its  temples.  For  those 
who  have  been  neither  to  Greece  nor  Sicily,  it  affords 
a  passable  example  of  Greek  work,  though  the  low  situ- 
ation of  the  place  prevents  any  comparison,  in  attrac- 
tiveness, with  Athens,  Bassae,  or  Girgenti.  The  temple 
dedicated  to  Neptune,  dating  from  about  five  hundred 
B.C.,  is  the  largest  and  most  beautiful,  with  fluted  col- 
umns of  travertine  that  are  nobly  proportioned.  Here, 
as  at  Girgenti,  one  deplores  the  use  of  the  baser  stone 

that  compares  so  illy  with  the  marble  of  Greece.  The 

30 


466     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 


Basilica  and  the  Temple  of  Ceres,  as  the  other  two 
buildings  are  called,  are  less  well-preserved  and  yet  of 
considerable  interest.  The  walls  of  the  old  town  should 
be  visited. 

The  less  said  of  our  run  back  to  Naples  the  better. 
From  Vietri,  the  road  lay  over  the  hills,  through  Cava 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  NEPTUNE  P^STUM. 


and  down  again,  by  Nocera,  to  Torre  Annunziata.  Such 
mud,  such  ruts,  and  such  breccia  we  had  never  seen 
in  unison.  Sharp  grades  made  it  all  the  worse.  We 
looked  momentarily  for  a  puncture,  but  it  never  came. 
Naples  found  us  completely  worn  out. 

Another  day,  properly  the  last  of  our  motor- trip, 
took  us  to  Pompeii,  which  lies  in  the  plain  between 


Naples,  Sorrento,  Ravello,  Paestum,  Pompeii  467 

the  sea  and  Vesuvius,  a  short  distance  east  of  Torre 
Annunziata.  Our  interest  centred  chiefly  in  the 
recent  excavations.  The  older  work  was  familiar, 
through  weeks  of  study  on  the  spot,  under  the  guidance 
of  Professor  Mau,  the  German  expert,  to  whom  all  at 
Pompeii  bow  down.  Owing  to  our  past  relation  to  him, 
the  director  gave  us  a  permit  which  allowed  us  to  watch 
the  actual  excavating.    It  proved  interesting,  more 


THE  GLADIATORS'  QUARTERS  POMPEII. 


as  a  matter  of  expectation  than  as  to  anything  import- 
ant that  pick  and  spade  unearthed.  The  attraction 
held  us  so  long  that  we  had  time  only  for  a  walk 
through  the  old  forum,  through  the  streets  whose  step- 
pmg-stones  form  a  feature  so  unfamiliar  in  these  days, 
past  the  many  shops  where  discoveries  were  made 
that  added  greatly  to  our  knowledge  of  ancient  com- 
mercial life.    We  had  time  for  a  glimpse  only  of  the 


468     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

baths,  the  theatres,  the  gladiators'  quarters,  and  the 
various  temples.  Everywhere,  as  we  wandered,  ap- 
peared fragments  of  frescoed  walls,  painted  in  the 
style  to  which  Pompeii  has  given  her  name.  Once  in  a 
while  one  sees  something  really  fine,  but,  for  the  most 
part,  the  work  is  monotonous  and  of  that  inferior 
quality  which  might  be  expected  of  such  a  provincial 
town  as  was  Pompeii.  Our  guide's  vivid  description 
brought  back  strongly  to  my  mind  how  much  I  had  for- 
gotten in  a  few  years,  but,  I  am  glad  to  say,  I  remem- 
bered sufficient  of  Professor  Mau's  teachings  to  perceive 
that  guides,  even  authorised  ones,  are  apt  to  have 
elastic  imaginations.  Our  guide  explained  everything. 
No  question,  however  intricate,  produced  in  him  a 
moment's  hesitation.  He  wound  up  with  a  masterly 
dissertation  on  the  interior  workings  of  Vesuvius  and 
told  of  the  catastrophe  that  overwhelmed  the  city  in 
a  way  that  showed  great  familiarity  with — Bulwer- 
Ly  tton ! 


CHAPTER  XX. 


POSTSCRIPT  ROME  TO  TURIN. 

AT  last  the  day  came  when  our  steamer  was  sched- 
uled to  sail  for  Egypt.    Mazzini  was  to  take 
the  car  to  Rome.    Fearful  of  his  recklessness, 
when  held  in  check  by  no  restraining  voice,  we  made 


CYPRESSES  OF  SETTIGNANO. 


him  solemnly  promise  to  go  slowly  and  carefully. 

Shortly  after,  we  were  steaming  down  the  coast,  passing 

to  the  inside  of  Capri,  whose  outline  was  gilt-tipped 

as  the  sun  set  behind  it.    Two  months  later  we  landed 

469 


47°     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

at  Brindisi  and  went  by  train,  through  unforgettable 
miles  of  flowering  almond  trees,  to  Rome.  There 


Alinari  photo.  Monte  Carlo. 

FRA  ANGELICO  "ANNUNCIATION." 


Mazzini  met  us  and  we  hurried  northward.  With  an 
early  breakfast  in  Rome,  we  managed  to  reach  Siena 


/ 

Postscript — Rome  to  Turin  471 

for  lunch,  going  to  Viterbo  over  the  hills  and  through 
the  Ciminian  Forest.  From  Montefiascone  north  to  San 
Quirico,  along  the  Lake  of  Bolsena  and  through  high- 
lying  Radicofani,  we  were  on  strange  ground.  Two 
punctures  delayed  us  but  we  were  only  twenty  minutes 
behind  our  schedule  as  we  drew  up  to  a  friendly  welcome 
at  the  Continental.  From  Siena,  next  morning,  we 
made  an  interesting  trip  to  Sinalunga  and  Lucignano, 
for  which  I  have  no  space  here.  In  the  afternoon  we 
went  on  to  Florence  by  Poggibonsi  and  Tavarnelle, 
a  way  not  so  picturesque  as  that  by  Castellina,  as  we 
discovered  on  a  subsequent  trip.  The  run  takes  about 
an  hour  and  three  quarters,  which  rather  puts  to  shame 
the  railroad's  three-hour  schedule. 

Florence  gave  us  a  week  of  interesting  trips  to  Fiesole, 
La  Quiete,  and  Settignano,  to  San  Giovanni  in  Val 
d'Arno  and  to  Monte  Carlo.  At  the  last  named,  in  the 
convent  church,  is  a  little- known  picture  by  Fra  Angel- 
ico,  an  Annunciation,  that  rivals  the  contemporary  one 
at  Cortona.  Above  the  opposite  altar  is  a  characteristic 
Neri  di  Bicci  Coronation. 

Florence  had  to  be  left  at  last.  After  spending  a 
rainy  morning  in  looking  for  pictures  in  the  antique 
shops,  we  took  advantage  of  a  somewhat  clearing  sky 
and  at  twenty  minutes  to  one  were  off  by  the  Porta 
San  Gallo.  In  mounting  the  hill  to  Fiesole,  we  went 
somewhat  out  of  our  way,  but  we  wanted  one  last  look 
back  at  the  town  that  was  so  dear  to  all  our  hearts, 
and  the  valley  road  would  not  give  it  to  us. 


472     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Crossing  the  hill  behind  Fiesole  and  going  on  for  a 
distance,  we  joined  the  main  road  at  Borgo  San  Lorenzo, 
situated  in  a  splendid  upland  plain.  This  district, 
known  as  the  Mugello,  is  a  very  fertile  one,  in  spite  of 
Ruskin's  calling  it  barren.  It  was  here  that  Giotto  was 
born. 

We  were  soon  crossing  the  Casaglia  Pass,  at  a  height 
of  three  thousand  feet.    The  road  was  muddy,  and  at 


PORTAL  OF  THE  CATHEDRAL  BORGO  SAN  DONNINO. 


times,  to  make  things  interesting,  we  ran  through 
banks  of  fog.  Marradi,  "where  all  the  thieves  in  Italy 
are  born,"  was  the  next  town.  The  twenty  miles  from 
there  to  Faenza  were  on  lower  ground  and  the  mud 
grew  worse,  making  fast  time  an  impossibility.  At 
that,  half -past  four  found  us  at  Faenza,  where  we 
turned  into  the  Via  ^Emilia.  An  hour  of  better  going 
brought  us  over  the  thirty  miles  to  Bologna.  The 


WAITING  FOR  A  TRAIN  TO  PASS  NOVARA. 


473 


Postscript- — Rome  to  Turin  477 

Asinelli  loomed  into  view  and  we  were  soon  passing 
under  it  and  drawing  up  at  our  friend.y  Hotel  Italia. 

Next  morning,  after  a  bit  of  sightseeing,  we  were  off 
at  eleven.  Two  hours,  through  the  mud,  brought  us 
to  Parma.  After  lunch,  a  rapid  round  of  the  gallery 
helped  to  cement  our  friendship  with  its  many  attrac- 
tive works.  Correggio  attracts  strongly  at  times, 
yet  one  wonders,  after  long  contact  with  the  earlier 
men,  whether  real  admiration  for  Parma's  protean 
genius  is  not  misplaced. 

Borgo  San  Donnino  was  our  next  stop,  which  lasted 
long  enough  for  an  inspection  of  the  old  church,  from 
which  Bertoni's  illness  had  previously  debarred  us.  It 
proved  interesting.  The  primitive  stiffness  of  the  sculp- 
tures adorning  the  portals  makes  them  attractive. 

From  San  Donnino  to  Piacenza  the  road  was  in  fair 
shape  but  from  Piacenza  to  Milan  it  was  awful.  The 
ruts  were  deep  and  very  hard  to  get  out  of,  once  we 
slipped  in.  The  strenuous  work  resulted  in  the  break- 
ing of  a  chain,  which  delayed  us  half  an  hour.  We 
reached  Milan  at  half-past  seven,  with  poor  Mazzini 
almost  worn  out.    It  certainly  had  been  a  hard  day. 

Two  days  later,  we  ran  by  way  of  Novara  and  Ver- 
celli  to  Turin.  The  road  was  very  bad.  Six  months 
before  we  had  travelled  it,  in  part,  and  it  had  been 
excellent,  though  dusty.  Now,  the  dust  was  made 
mud  and  the  winter's  frost, unknown  to  the  roads  farther 
south,  had  produced  a  pretty  fair  imitation  of  some  of 
our  American  unspeakables.      Novara  has  two  fine 


47 8     Through  Italy  with  Car  and  Camera 

Gaudenzios.  Vercelli  gave  us  an  opportunity  to  visit 
again  the  works  of  the  same  artist.  As  on  our  first 
visit,  it  was  Sunday  afternoon,  and  the  same  young 
girls,  forming  the  choir,  were  practising  the  same  plain- 
tive hymn  as  they  had  months  before.  It  tied  the  ends 
of  our  trip  together  and  made  us  sorry  that  our  good 
time  was  over. 

At  Turin  we  left  the  Fiat  to  be  overhauled,  before 
shipment  to  America.  It  had  done  its  work  well, 
better  than  we  had  ever  supposed  possible.  It  grieved 
us  to  part  with  Mazzini,  the  more  so  as  we  had  to  read 
him  a  very  severe  lecture.  For  Turin,  where  our  car 
was  registered,  brought  to  light  the  fact  that,  in  spite 
of  all  promises  to  go  slowly,  Mazzini  had  been  suffi- 
ciently reckless,  in  going  from  Naples  to  Rome,  to 
kill  a  mule!  "Yes,  I  hit  a  mule,"  he  said,  when  taxed 
with  it,  "but  he  got  up  again  and  went  about  his  busi- 
ness." Our  poor  lightning  conductor!  The  veterin- 
ary's  certificate  left  him  no  recourse  but  silence. 


INDEX 


A 

Abruzzi,  The,  377. 
Adda,  The,  45. 
Adige,  The,  72. 

^Emilia,  Via,  45,  151,  159,  165,  177, 
472 

Agatha,  St.,  338. 

Alagna,  20. 

Alatri,  437.  45°- 

Alba  Longa,  431. 

Albano,  431. 

Alberti,  L.  B.,  159. 

Albertinelli,  232.  237. 

Alfonsine,  141. 

Altichiero,  81,  85,  120. 

Alunno,  Nic,  192,  340,  359-360. 

Alzano,  57. 

Amadeo,  54. 

Amalfi,  456. 

Amatrice,  377. 

Amiata,  Monte,  242,  255,  275,  398. 
Anagni,  437,  45°- 
Ancona,  69,  334. 

Angelico,  Fra,  66,  202,  290,  315, 

397,  418,  471- 
Anio,  The,  440,  442. 
Antonello  da  Messina,  46. 
Antoniazzo  Romano,  389,  418,  441, 

45i- 

Antrodoco,  388. 
Apiro,  339. 
Apollinaris,  St.,  146. 
Appia,  Via,  430. 
Aquae  Albulae,  440. 
Aquila,  378,  387. 
Aquileia,  103. 
Aquinas,  St.  Thomas,  232. 
Aragazzi,  Tomb  of,  283. 
Arezzo,  295. 
Ariccia,  431. 
Ariosto,  130. 

Arno,  The,  206,  208,  233. 
Arnolfo  di  Cambio,  289. 
Arona,  23. 
Arsoli,  441. 
Asciano,  272,  276. 
Ascoli,  355. 


Asolo,  99. 
Aspertini,  223. 
Assergi,  378. 

Assisi,  289,  302,  360,  369. 
Athens,  465. 
Atrani,  Valley  of,  461 
Attila,  103. 

Augustine,  St.,  40,  260. 
Avanzo,  191. 

B 

Bagnaia,  404. 
Bambaja,  II.,  32. 
Barbari,  Jacopo  di,  455. 
Bard  1. 

Baroccio,  224,  320,  328. 

Bartoli,  Taddeo,  237-238,  275,  280, 

283,  290,  365. 
Bartolommeo,  Fra,  224,  232. 
Bassae,  465. 
Bassano,  99. 
Bastia,  360,  369. 
Battipaglia,  465. 
Beccafumi,  255,  275. 
Belcaro,  272. 
Belforte,  355. 

Bellini,  Giovanni,  87,  110,  160,  329. 
Bellini,  Jacopo,  60,  66. 
Belluno,  101. 
Benaglio,  81. 

Benedict,  St.,  271,  376,  442,  451. 
Bentivogli,  The,  182. 
Benvenuto  of  Siena,  237,  244,  283. 
Benvenuto,  Girolamo  di,  275,  283. 
Berengarius,  71. 

Berenson,  57,  66,  215,  232,  241,  283, 

33°>  346,  403. 
Bergamo,  53. 
Bernardino,  St.,  273,  387. 
Bertucci,  166. 
Bettona,  301. 
Bevagna,  302. 
Bibbiano,  274. 
Bicci,  Neri  di,  366,  471. 
Bieda,  406. 
Boccaccino,  49,  50. 
Boccatis,  290,  293,  355. 


479 


480 


Index 


Bologna,  178,  472. 
Bologna,  Giovanni  da,  181. 
Bolsena,  Lake  of,  398,  471. 
Bonfigli,  290. 
Boniface  VIII.,  397,  450. 
Bonifazio,  70. 
Bonsignori,  70,  73. 
Bordone,  60. 

Borgo  San  Donnino,  477. 
Borgo  San  Lorenzo,  472. 
Borgo  San  Sepolero,  317. 
Borgognone,  41,  45. 
Botticelli,  46,  202. 
Bracciano,  415. 
Brenta,  The,  99. 
Brescia,  62. 
Brescianino,  274. 
Brindisi,  470. 
Bronzino,  224. 
Brunelleschi,  198. 
Brusasorci,  70. 

Buonconvento,  271,  274,  279. 
Butinone,  62. 
Byron,  369. 

C 

Caere,  309. 

Cagnola,  Don  Guido,  60. 

Calvin,  130. 

Camerino,  356. 

Canova,  149. 

Canterano,  441. 

Capri,  452,  455-  469. 

Capua,  451. 

Caracci,  The,  191. 

Cariani,  54,  57. 

Carli,  284. 

Carmichael,  218. 

Caroto,  70,  74,  81. 

Carpaccio,  110. 

Carpineto,  437. 

Carretto,  Ilaria  del,  32,  223. 

Casaglia  Pass,  472. 

Casale,  13. 

Casarsa,  102,  107. 

Cassino,  451. 

Castagno,  202. 

Castel  d'Asso,  309,  406. 

Castel  Gandolfo,  431. 

Castelfranco,  96. 

Castellamare,  455. 

Castellina,  471. 

Castiglione,  31. 

Cava,  466. 

Cavazzola,  70,  73. 

Cave,  447. 


Cavo,  Monte,  416,  427. 
Cecina,  234. 
Ceneda,  10 1. 
Cerveteri,  309.  406. 
Cesena,  165. 
Cesenatico,  150. 
Chantilly,  241. 
Chiaggio,  The,  364. 
Chiana,  The,  283,  316. 
Chienti,  The,  355. 
Chiusi,  284. 
Chiusi,  Lake  of,  283. 
Chiusuri,  272. 
Cima,  10 1 

Ciminian  Forest,  406,  471. 
Cingoli,  339. 
Circeo,  Monte,  432. 
Citta  della  Pieve,  284. 
Citta  di  Castello,  316. 
Cittadella,  96. 
Civerchio,  60. 
Civiasco,  17. 
Cividale,  105. 
Civitali,  218,  223-224. 
Civitavecchia,  406. 
Clara,  St.,  363. 
Claudius,  Emperor,  448. 
Clement  IV.,  401. 
Clement  XII.,  337. 
Clitumnus,  The,  369. 
Clusium,  284. 
Coda,  160. 

Colfiorito,  Plain  of,  356. 
Colle,  238,  256,  273. 
Colle,  Rafaellino  dal,  316. 
Colleoni,  54,  115,  125. 
Conegliano,  10 1,  107. 
Constantine,   Emperor,    372,  416, 

418. 
Cori,  431. 
Corna,  61. 
Corneto,  309,  406. 
Corno,  Monte,  378. 
Corno,  Sella  di,  388. 
Corno,  The,  376. 
Cornuda,  10 1. 
Correggio,  171,  477. 
Cortona,  295,  310. 
Cosmati,  The,  401,  450,  465. 
Cossa,  87,  136,  192. 
Costa,  160,  182. 
Credi,  Lorenzo  di,  215,  217. 
Crema,  50. 
Cremona,  49. 

Cremona,  Girolamo  da,  404. 
Crespi  Collection,  32. 
Crivelli,  Carlo,  338,  345-346,  355, 
359- 


Index 


Crivelli,  Vittorio,  340. 
Cusa,  Nicholas  of,  418. 

D 

Dante,  70,  85,  146,  150,  159,  239, 

256,  397- 
Desenzano,  69,  78. 
Dolomites,  The,  10 1. 
Dominic,  St.,  182. 
Donatello,  115,  125,  166,  171,  201, 

215,  283. 
Doria,  family,  450. 
Dosso,  136,  139,  177. 
Drusus,  371. 
Duccio,  241,  280. 
Duccio,  Agostino  di,  159,  293. 
Dyck,  A.  van,  8. 

E 

Ehrich  Collection,  353. 
Elba,  269. 
Este,  The,  130. 
Este,  Beatrice  d\  32,  41. 
Este,  Borso  d',  135. 
Este,  Isabella  d',  74. 
Euganean  Hills,  92,  129. 
Eyck,  Jan  van,  8. 
Ezzolino,  71. 

F 

Fabriano,  Gentile  da,  60,  232,  290, 

328,  394,  418. 
Faenza,  166,  472. 
Falconetto,  73,  81. 
Fano,  329. 

Federico  of  Urbino,  220,  320. 
Ferentino,  437,  450. 
Ferento,  404. 
Ferramola,  61. 
Ferrara,  129. 

Ferrari,  Gaudenzio,  8,  13,  14,  18, 

31.  478- 
Fiesole,  198,  471. 
Figlino,  211. 
Fina,  St.,  259. 

Fiorenzo  di  Lorenzo,  290,  293,  302, 

360.  I 
Fischof  Collection,  441. 
Flaminia,  Via,  159,  389. 
Florence,  T98. 
Fogg  Museum,  359. 
Foix,  Gaston  de,  32,  150. 
Foligno,  302,  356,  369. 
Forca  di  Cerro,  376. 
Forli,  165.  ,  I 


Forra,  La,  367. 
Forteguerri,   Tomb,  217. 
Franceschi,  P.  dei,  136,  160,  295- 

296,  317,  328,  330. 
Francesco  di  Antonio,  404. 
Francia,  135,  182,  189,  191,  223. 
Francis,  St.,  244,  289,  296,  302,  306, 

360,  363,  442. 
Frascati,  428. 

Fredi,  Bartolo  di.  275,  280. 
Frediano,  St.,  233. 
Friuli,  103. 
Frosinone,  437,  451. 

G 

Galla  Placidia,  142. 
Garda,  Lago  di,  69. 
Gardiner  Collection,  293,  360. 
Garibaldi,  54. 
Garofalo,  135-136,  139. 
Gatta,  B.  della  296,  315. 
Gattamelata,  115,  125. 
Gazzada,  24. 
Gemona,  105. 
Genazzano,  447. 
Gennaro,  Monte,  416. 
Genzano,  431. 
Germanicus,  371. 
Ghiberti,  202. 

Ghirlandajo,  Dom.,  160,  209,  237, 

259.  375.  389-390- 
Ghirlandajo,  Ridolfo,  238. 
Giocondo,  Fra,  79. 
Giolfino,  70. 

Giorgio,  Francesco  di,  280,  310,  338. 
Giorgione,  88,  96. 

Giotto,  120,  202,  206,  209,  302,  363, 
472. 

Giovanni  da  Verona,  73. 
Girgenti,  465. 
Giulio  Romano,  77. 
Goito,  77. 

Gozzoli,    202,    232,    260-261,  306, 
402. 

Gran  Sasso,  377-378,  416. 
Grandi,  Ercole,  139. 
Greve,  211. 
Grosseto,  269. 
Gubbio,  364. 
Guercino,  338. 
Guidarelli,  32,  146. 
Guido  Aretino,  295. 

H 

Hadrian,  Emperor,  440. 
Hadrian  V.,  401. 


482 


Index 


Hannibal,  294,  371,  429. 
Helena,  St.,  330. 
Honorius,  Emperor,  141. 
Horace,  415. 

I 

Incisa,  211. 
Ingino,  Monte,  356. 
Innocent  X.,  427. 
Innocenti,  The,  260. 
Intermesole,  387. 
Iseo,  62. 

J 

Jesi,  338. 

Johnson  Collection,  8,  66,  259. 
Justinian,  Emperor,  145. 
Justus  of  Ghent,  320. 

L 

La  Forra,  367. 
La  Quiete,  471. 
La  Verna,  296. 
Labicana,  Via,  448,,  450. 
Lanini,  8. 
Lante,  Villa,  405. 
Laurana,  329. 
Laurati,  181. 
Lawrence,  St.,  215. 
Leghorn,  233. 
Leo  XIII.,  437. 
Leonardo  da  Vinci,  32,  41. 
Leopardi,  54. 

Liberale  of  Verona,  70-71. 
Libri,  Girolamo  dai,  70,  73. 
Lippi,  Filippino,  202,  215. 
Lippi,  Filippo,  8,  202,  212,  372,  37 
Lodi,  45. 
Lojano,  193. 
Lombardi,  The,  125. 
Lombardi,  P.  &  T.,  146. 
Lorenzetti,  The,  231. 
Lorenzetti,  A.,  255,  264-265,  26 
Lorenzetti,  P.,  296,  352. 
Lorenzo  di  Viterbo,  401. 
Loreto,  353. 

Lotto,    57-58,    99,   337-339.  34 

353-355,  454- 
Lucca,  218. 
Lucignano,  471. 
Luco,  Monte,  371. 
Lucy,  St.,  338. 
Ludovico  il  Moro,  41. 
Luini,  32-33,  41. 


M 

Macerata,  345. 

Macrino  d'  Alba,  8. 

Maecenas,  295. 

Magione,  294,  310. 

Mainardi,  259. 

Majano,  Benedetto  da,  171. 

Majella,  The,  384. 

Malatesta.  Sigismondo,  149,  159. 

Malpaga,  54. 

Mantegna,  74,  77,  81,  125,  404. 
Mantua,  74. 
Marches,  The,  319. 
Marecchia,  The,  151. 
Maremma,  The,  431. 
j  Margaret,  St.,  315. 
Margaritone,  296. 
Mario,  Monte,  416. 
Mariotto,  Bernardino  di,  340. 
Marradi,  472. 

Martini,  Simone,  232,  255,  363,  397. 

Masaccio,  202,  211. 

Maser,  100. 

Masolino,  31,  393. 

Massa  Lubrense,  455. 

Massa  Marittima,  269. 

Massa  Martana,  390. 

Matteo  of  Siena,  244,  256,  271,  274, 

280,  317. 
Mau,  467, 
Maxentius,  416. 
Mazzolmo,  139. 
Medici,  Claudia  de',  327. 
Medici,  Lorenzo  de',  372. 
Melanzio,  306. 

Melozzo  da  Forli,  165,  319,  353. 
Memmi,  Lippo,  259. 
Mercatello,  318. 
Mestre,  107,  116. 

5.  Meta,  455. 
Mezzastri,  359. 

Michael  Angelo,  41,  182,  193,  198, 

397,  401,  418. 
Michelozzo,  281-283. 
Mieris,  Van,  8. 
9.      Milan,  32,  477. 
Millet,  190. 
Mincio,  The,  70,  78. 
Mino  da  Fiesole,  237. 

6,  Minora,  462. 
Mocetto,  73. 
Modena,  177. 
Molaretto,  1. 
Monaco,  Guido,  295. 
Monreale,  465. 
Monselice,  129. 
Mont  Cenis,  1. 


Index  483 


Montagna,  41,  73,  87,  91. 
Montalcino,  274. 
Monte  Aperto,  272. 
Monte  Carlo,  47  1. 
Monte  Massi,  270. 
Monte  Oliveto  Maggiore,  271. 
Monte  Rosa,  17,  19,  20,  23. 
Monte  San  Giusto,  355. 
Montecatini,  217. 
Montefalco,  302. 
Montefeltri,  The,  320. 
Montefiascone,  398,  471. 
Montepulciano,  280,  310. 
Monteriggione,  239,  256. 
Monterosi,  415. 
Morelli,  57,  215. 
Moretto,  61,  65-66. 
Morone,  D.,  70,  81 . 
Morone,  F.,  70,  73,  81. 
Moroni,  57,  60. 
Mugello,  The,  472. 
Murlo,  274. 

N 

Naples,  451. 
Napoleon,  45,  151. 
Narni,  366,  389. 
Natisone,  The,  105. 

NelH,  359>  365- 
Nemi,  Lake,  431. 
Nera,  The,  376,  389. 
Nero,  Emperor,  416,  441. 
Neroccio,  244. 
Nestore,  316. 

Nevin  Collection,  255,  293. 

Niccolo,  Andrea  di,  284. 

Nicholas,  St.,  340. 

Ninfa,  432. 

Noale,  119. 

Nocera,  466. 

Norba,  431. 

Norchia,  309,  406,  415. 

Norcia,  376. 

Norma,  432. 

Novara,  477. 

Nuzi,  339. 

O 

Oglio,  The,  61. 
Olevano,  447. 
Orcagna,  231. 
Ortler,  The,  378. 
Orvieto,  394. 
Ospedalleto,  106. 


P 

Pacchia,  283-284. 
Pacchiarotto,  271. 
Pacioli,  455. 
Padua,  65,  120. 
Paestum,  465. 
Paganica,  378. 
Paglia,  The,  394. 
Paitone,  66. 
Palestrina,  448,  450. 
Palladio,  88. 

Palma  Vecchio,  58,  88,  no. 
Palmezzano,  165,  353. 
Panetti,  139. 
Parma,  171,  477. 
Parmigianino,  172,  454. 
Pausula,  340. 
Pavia,  40-41,  7q. 
Pellegrino,  105-106. 
Pepin,  71. 

Perkins,  F.  Mason,  390. 

Perugia,  240,  286. 

Perugino,  50,   190,  209,  285,  290, 

2Q3»  302,  306,  317,  330. 
Peruzzi,  273. 
Pesaro,  319,  329. 
Peschiera,  69,  78. 
Petrarch,  295. 
Petrignano,  364. 
Pianico,  59. 
Pianoro,  193. 
Piazza,  family,  45. 
Piccione,  364. 
Piacenza,  45,  477. 
Piccolomini,  The,  240,  272,  279. 
Piediluco,  389. 
Piedipaterno,  376. 
Pienza,  279. 

Pier  Francesco  Fiorentino,  366. 
Pieve  di  Cadore,  10 1. 
Pieve  di  Corsano,  274. 
Pinturicchio,   240,   290,   337,  340, 
35i»  359- 

Piombo,  Sebastiano  del,  no,  339, 

401,  454, 
Pisa,  229. 

Pisanello,  70,  74,  82. 
Pisano,  Giovanni,  231. 
Pisano,  Niccolo,  231,  289. 
Pisano,  Nino,  232. 
Pisciatello,  The,  150. 
Pistoja,  208,  215. 
Pius  II.,  240,  279. 
Pius  III.,  272. 

Piatt  Collection,  57,  224,  255,  320. 
Pliny,  369. 

Po,  The,  8,  12,  49,  129. 


Index 


Poggibonsi,  262,  471. 
Polenta,  Guido  da,  146. 
Politian,  283. 
Pollainoli,  The,  202. 
Pompeii,  466. 
Pontassieve,  210. 
Ponte,  69. 

Ponte  d'Orsino,  447. 
Pontelagoscuro,  12Q. 
Pontine,  Marshes,  432. 
Pordenone,  102,  107. 
Pordenone,  G.  A.  da,  46,  49,  101- 

103, 
Porsenna,  284. 
Portici,  453. 
Posilipo,  453. 
Positano,  456. 
Pozzuoli,  453. 
Prajano,  456. 
Prato,  212. 
Previtale,  57. 
Primaticcio,  77. 

Q 

Quercia,  Jacopo  della,  181,  223. 
Quiete,  La,  471. 

R 

Radicino,  Colle,  377. 

Radicofani,  471. 

Rankin,  William,  264. 

Raphael,  41,  46,  96,  136,  189,  293, 

3l6-  3*9,  33°.  398,  427- 
Raticosa  Pass,  193. 
Ravello,  461. 
Ravenna,  141. 
Recanati,  346. 
Reggio,  ^Emilia,  171. 
Reggio,  Calabria,  465. 
Rembrandt,  8. 
Remus,  255. 
Reni,  Guido,  96,  191. 
Reno,  The,  141. 
Rieti,  388. 

Rimini,  45,  152,  159. 
Riva,  20. 

Robbia,  The  della,  217,  238,  283. 
Robbia,  Andrea  della,  238,  273. 
Robbia,  Luca  della,  201,  328. 
Roberti,  Ercole,  136. 
Rocca  di  Papa,  428. 
Rocca  di  Petrignano,  364. 
Rocca  Priora,  338. 
Romagna,  The,  165. 
Romagnano,  14,  23. 
Romanino,  49,  54,  65,  69,  126. 


Romano,  St.,  224. 
Rome,  416,  470. 
Roncaglia,  49. 
Ronciglione,  415. 
Rondinelli,  146. 
Rosia,  264,  273. 
Roslyn,  404. 
Rossellino,  166,  280. 
Rosso  Fiorentino,  237. 
Rovere,  F.  M.  della,  320. 
Rovigo,  129. 
Rubicon,  150. 
Ruskin,  39,  223,  472. 

S 

Salerno,  465. 
Salo,  69. 

San  Daniele,  106. 
San  Donnino,  Borgo,  477. 
San  Galgano,  264. 
San  Gallo,  Ant.,  283. 
San  Gimignano,  238,  256. 
San  Giovanni  d'Asso,  276. 
San  G  lovanni  m  Val  d'Arno,  47 1- 
San  Gregorio,  364. 
San  Giustino,  317. 
San  Lorenzo,  Borgo,  472. 
San  Marino,  151,  319. 
San  Quirico,  279,  471. 
San  Sepolcro,  Borgo,  317. 
San  Severini,  The,  328. 
San  Severino,  339. 
San  Severino,  Lorenzo  II.  da,  340, 
345- 

Sano  di  Pietro,  244,  271,  279-280. 

Sansovino,  125. 

Sant'  Angelo  in  Vado,  319. 

Sant'  Antimo,  275. 

Sant'  Ellero,  210. 

Santi,  Giovanni,  320,  329. 

Saronno,  31. 

Sarteano,  275. 

Sarto,  A.  del,  209. 

Sassetta,  244,  272-273,  315. 

Savino,  St.,  171. 

Savoldo,  69. 

Scaligers,  The,  70,  85. 

Scolastica,  St.,  442 

Segna,  269. 

Segni,  437,  450. 

Sella  di  Corno,  388. 

Semprevisa,  437. 

Senigallia,  330. 

Serravalle,  10 1. 

Sesia,  The,  17.  20. 

Settignano,  471. 

Sibylline  Mountains,  377. 


Index 


485 


Siena,  240,  470. 

Signorelli,  160,  237,  271,  315-316, 

353-  367'  397- 
Simon  Collection,  190. 
Sinalunga,  47  1. 
Sodoma,  255  271. 
Solari,  Cristoforo,  41. 
Solferino,  78. 
Soracte,  415. 
Sorrento,  455. 
Spagna,  Lo,  330,  372,  390. 
Spello,  302,  359,  369. 
Spinello  Aretino,  296. 
Spoleto,  369. 
Squarcione,  135. 
StarTolo,  339. 
Stamina,  212. 

Subasio,  Monte,  289,  302,  360. 
Subiaco,  440. 
Susa,  2. 
Syracuse,  465. 

T 

Tagliamento,  The,  103. 
Taormina,  465. 
Tarquinia,  309. 
Tasso,  130. 
Tavarnelle,  471. 
Terni,  389. 
Terontola,  294. 
Terracina,  430,  439. 
Tessino,  The,  371. 
Teverone,  The,  302. 
Theodora,  145. 

Theodoric,  71,  73,  141,  146,  149. 
Tiber,  The,  286,  310,  316-317,  364, 

366,  394,  416. 
Tiberio  d'Assisi,  306. 
Tiberius,  Emperor,  431. 
Ticinus,  The,  24,  40. 
Tiepolo,  39,  54,  92,  104,  110. 
Tifernate,  316. 
Tintoretto,  72,  209. 
Tirano,  61 . 

Titian,  32,  66,  69,  88,  101,  110,  126, 

.320,  334,  337.  454- 
Tivoli,  416,  440. 
Todi,  286,  310,  390. 
Tolentino,  340,  355. 
Torbido,  69. 

Torre  Annunziata,  453,  455,  466. 
Torre  del  Greco,  453. 
Torrenieri,  276,  279. 
Torrigiano,  193. 
Toscanella,  406. 
Toschi,  171. 
Touring  Club,  42. 


Trabaria  Pass,  318. 

Traini,  232. 

Trajan,  Emperor,  337. 

Trasimene,  Lake,  283,  296,  3 10,  3 16 

Trescorre,  58-59. 

Trevi,  302,  306,  369. 

Trevigfio,  53. 

Treviso,  107. 

Trinci,  Corrado  de',  359. 

Triponzo,  376. 

Tura,  87,  135-136,  418. 

Turin,  7,  478. 

Turino,  255. 

U 

Ubaldo,  St.,  365. 
Udine,  103. 

Udine,  Giovanni  da,  104. 
Umbertide,  366. 
Urbino,  152,  319. 
Utili,  A.  and  G.,  166. 

V 

Vallombrosa,  206. 
Valmontone,  450. 
Varallo,  17,  23. 
Varese,  24. 
Vasari,  295. 
Vecchietta,  280. 
Veii,  416. 
Velasquez.  427. 
Velino,  The,  389. 
Velletri,  431. 
Venice,  109. 
Vercelli,  13,  477. 
Vermeer,  190. 
Verna,  La,  296. 

Verocchio,  54,  115,  125,  215,  217. 
Verona,  70. 

Veronese,  Paul,  70,  72,  92,  100,  110, 
126. 

Vespasian,  Emperor,  371. 
Vesuvius,  452,  455. 
Vetralla,  406. 

Via  ^Emilia,  45,  151,  159,  165,  177, 
.472. 

Via  Flaminia,  159,  389. 

Vicenza,  87. 

Vico  Equenze,  455. 

Vietri,  465,  466. 

Virgil,  397- 

Viterbo,  40 1,  471. 

Viterbo,  Francesco  di,  404. 

Viterbo,  Lorenzo  di,  401. 

Vitali,  224,  320. 

Viti,  192,  319,  328. 


486 


Index 


Vivarini,  Ant.  and  Bart.,  192,  345. 
Vivarini,  Alvise,  57. 
Volsinii,  394. 
Volterra,  234. 
Volumnii,  Tomb,  309. 

W 

Widener  Collection,  441. 
William  the  Conqueror,  462. 


Williams,  Egerton,  375. 
Wilstach  Collection,  340. 

Z 

Zaganelli,  160. 
Zenale,  53. 
Zermatt,  20. 
Zoppo,  320. 


J     GETTY  CENTER  LIBRARY 


